Castle of Glass
by Vader'sMistress
Summary: Collection of Vignettes. Companion pieces that follow the Three Graces. Centers around Mary and Edward Seymour as one night they discuss the future of England and three daughters who will one day change England listen in. How will their conversation change them and will it be for the worst?
1. Chapter 1

**1548**

**London Borough, Palace of Placentia**

"Meggie, get back here."

"I don't want to." Meggie said rebelliously, winking at her papa Thomas t chase after her.

"Meggie!" She kept running, daring her two fathers to chase her. Thomas got to her first. Edward was not fast enough to catch her.

"I won papa, I won!" She told Thomas and swung her tiny arms around his neck. "I love you papa. I love you."

Thomas swung her high for everyone to see. Ned stood stupefied as he approached them, his wife and sister in law and the rest of their child behind him. Thomas laughed with her and gave her to Kate who smiled as she held her favorite niece. Her _only_ favorite niece.

She worried about her constantly and despite Thomas begging her not to, she gave her larger portions to put meat in her bones. For being only eleven she was very thin but then again Thomas had been very thin at her age and he was healthy. Kate hoped that her niece would grow up the same.

"Mommy." Margery pulled Mary's sleeve, begging her to look down at her. She did. She picked her daughter up and walked towards Ned. He watched as his eldest daughter left with her Aunt and Uncle, without a care in the world for her true father.

"Papa, daddy." She said extending her perfectly thin arms. Fair and dark grey eyed, she was perfect in her parents' eyes. Ned glanced at her. Seeing her partly healed the wound Meggie had caused.

"Sweeting. I am so pleased to see you. You are a very beautiful gift from God, do you know that?" Ned asked her, wondering if he would ever have the nerve to say so when his eldest daughter was present.

"I know." Margery said when she was safely placed in Ned's arms. As the Lord Protector her father had precedent. He was after the King the highest man in the land. "Are you sad papa?"

"I am not. Why do you say so?" Ned asked. He and his wife went to their chambers. Everyone nodded to them and bowed their heads as if they were the King and Queen. His wife was treated as such and every nobleman's daughter was begging to be in her service.

Margery felt very important. She was the most fortunate girl in England and it was sad her sisters were too stupid not to know it.  
Anne was a resentful teen and her sister Meggie was just as resentful except she was bent in causing trouble wherever she went making their father feel bad, blaming him for her unofficial bastard status and last but not least, for refusing to acknowledging her and giving her everything as he had given her.

"Because I see how sad you are." Margery said as Ned placed her in her lap. He could not lie. He loved her, more than every child, every son, every daughter, stepson, stepdaughter. She was his jewel. His little flower.

"I am not sad Margery, I am just tired."

"You are lying. You are sad." Margery said. "Meggie shouldn't treat you that way, she is spoiled rotten. You and lady mother have given her everything and she still treats you this way."

"Yes we have." Ned said.

He wiped a tear from his eye. He tried giving Meggie everything, he even arranged a betrothal between her and Dudley's eldest son after his wife convinced him he was a better match than her royal nephew, Charlie (Bella's second eldest son) was.

"You do not have to listen to her papa, I love you and Neddie and Mundi love you and you don't need Meggie's love when you have ours." She swung her arms around Ned.

Ned and Mary did not see the little game she was playing, winning her parents' love and if they did they did not show they cared. For them their three youngest children were everything.

"I will always love you." Margery repeated tightening her grip around her father's neck.

Ned could barely feel it. He kissed her forehead and ran his fingers through her shiny auburn curls.

"That's enough for today. Off t bed with you." Mary said taking their seven year old daughter to her bedchambers.

Meggie arrived after Mary put to Margery to bed and said her night prayers with her.

Her eleven year old daughter did not say a word to her. Mary attempted to talk to her but Meggie only said, "I want to stay with papa Thomas and Aunt Kate tomorrow."

"You can't, tomorrow is the twelfth night, your father and I will be presiding and we want all the family together. You will see your Aunt and Uncle tomorrow."

"I want to stay with them."

"You can't Meggie." Mary said firmly, taking her daughter to bed. She thrust her hand in her daughter's hand but she shook it away. "This is very important for your father and me, and it's important that the people see all the royal family together."

"You mean see the wolves together." Meggie said, her eyes darkening.

Mary sighed, covering her mouth. "Why do you have to be so difficult Meggie? Why? Your father is trying to make things better for you. He wants you to be the first lady, my first lady. You will be highest than any ot-"

"I don't want to be your first lady, or any first lady, I want to be with my papa Thomas. He is my father, he gave me my first horse and you've given me nothing except a lousy father."

"Stop it."

"It's the truth. I would rather have a drunk and a lecher for a father than have him. He's done nothing for any of us except your stupid children."

"You are my children too and I won't have you, Annie, or Arthur ruin all of your father's hard work -"

"He is not my father-"

"He is your father and if he says you are going to appear tomorrow before all the royal and noble guests you will and you will be on your best behavior." Mary said and spun on her heel but was stopped by her daughter's defiant voice.

"Or what? You will ground me? Punish me? Forbid me to watch the play you stupidly wrote with my Aunt Maggie? How about you reveal the truth for once mother and tell everyone how hot you were when you pleaded for my _father_ when you went to my real father?"

Mary turned to her daughter and slowly approached her, squeezing her firsts. "I am warning you Margaret Boleyn do not tempt me to do something you and I will both regret."

Meggie chuckled. "You can't do it, can you? You are afraid of saying my true last name, the name that she-wolf stole from me."

"That she-wolf is your sister and your better."

"Why mama? Because you want to marry her to Lord Marcus? Oh I can see it now if little King Eddie Tudor fails to have heirs next in line Charlie will be on the throne but if he fails to have heirs then it will be ... who now? What's his name? Robert, Patterson, Philip that's it! Philip will be next unless he continues to be a serious boy, a prude like our great-great-grandmother Margaret Beaufort God bless her, then who?"

Mary bit her lower lip.

"Marcus, that's right Marcus will be the next in line and who will be Queen if Eddie, Charlie, and Philip were to die without issue? Your little Margery."

Meggie's smile turned sardonic when her mother remained silent. "What's the matter mother? Have I uncovered your master plan?"

Mary was ready to slap her daughter when Thomas and Katherine came unannounced to the Lord and Lady Protector's chambers and having heard the deathly silence that followed Meggie's words, they decided to irrupt.

"Meggie you forgot this child." Thomas told his niece. He'd given her a pouch of gold and pearls that had belonged to a member of the low nobility in France from the town of Bologne. He'd taken it months after he and the English troops lay siege to the town. The Duke of Norfolk and his brother gave instructions not to take any belongings but never being one to follow orders Thomas took a few things. Some of them he had given them to Kate and lied telling her they were part of his father's inheritance, the others he'd placed in a special chest that he would give to his daughter Mary when she reached the age of twelve. The ones that left he had given to Meggie but as usual in her excitement she forgot things.

"Papa thank you!" Meggie said loud and clear so her father if he was still awake in the other room would hear.

Mary glared at her oldest daughter by Edward. She turned to her brother and sister in law. "Meggie has just retired, if you want to see her tomorrow you can during the twelfth night."

"I am not going." Meggie said.

"You are Meggie. Lord, Lady Sudeley I bid you good night." Mary said showing them their way out. Katherine turned to Meggie and returned to her chambers giving her a goodnight kiss, telling her how much she and her husband, Thomas, loved her.

It broke Mary's heart to see her daughter very familiar with these people. "My lady." Kate said curtsying, not as lower as Mary would have wanted, then her husband who only grinned sardonically at her.

So that is where Meggie gets it.

"See you tomorrow Your Grace." Thomas said as Mary was about to close the door. "I will be waiting for the little she-wolf's act though of course no one can beat a true Seymour." He sighed. "It's too sad that you and Ned can't acknowledge it but then I shouldn't be surprised. My brother was always dull when it came to love but I must congratulate you on the passion part because the way he squeals from what I hear from your servants, like a dolphin when he is with you, I don't think any woman has made him squeal like that, not even Anne Stanhope and she was with every man."

"Get out of my sight and stay away from my daughter."

"Why?" Thomas asked putting his foot in between the entrance as she was about to shut the door in his face. "Because I love her, because she loves me and Kate more than she does you and your husband? Because we have provided her with what you and Ned never have?"

"You stole Meggie from us." Thomas added when his brother's wife continued to glare at him. He was not intimidated by her cold dark grey eyes. Unlike the other men who became unmanned by the Lord Protector's wife, he wasn't. She was just another woman, another meaningless woman. Except for Kate, their daughter Mary and Meggie -whom they also considered their daughter- he didn't see any other women as valuable.

"You hate us because you think we stole Meggie's love from you but truth is, you stole Meggie from us. Me and Kate we were going to give her a home, brothers, a sister she could love, a place where she would thrive but you had to convince my brother."

"And I would gladly do it again because she would have never been happy with you. You are a lecher Thomas, you will always be a lecher and Meggie is my daughter and Edward's, not yours. You are just her uncle."

"I am her father. I love her, I carried her when she was a babe, when you were too busy warming her father's bed. I have loved her more than you ever will and you hate Kate because she has been more mother to her than you."

The hand she wanted to use on Meggie she used on Thomas, unfortunately before her other hand reached his other cheek, he caught it in mid air. "Thomas stop it." Kate said having heard enough from her sister in law. "Stop it Thomas."

Thomas let her go. He and the royal Duchess glanced coldly at each other. "Your Grace" He coldly said with the same mocking grin as before. He turned on his heel and he and his wife left.

Mary returned to her bedchambers. Ned was asleep. He drank something that Bella recommended. Only she and her sisters and a handful of their ladies knew what it was. She sensed that she was about to have another fight with Meggie when she came back that she ordered her servants to put that substance into Ned's drink. It had knocked him out completely.

Mary dismissed her maids and got out of her clothes by herself. She stepped under the covers and kissed his lips. Although he was asleep, his body responded at her touch and began to move on its own as she moved down.

Mary quieted all moans from his lips with a searing kiss on his lips, his mustache tickled her. She pushed his legs apart and let his erect member, guiding it, enter her.

* * *

Anne who was awake, heard it all. She was never one to obey rules but unlike her middle sister Meggie, she was more defiant. She wanted to hear all the sounds of their lovemaking so it would filter the hatred in her heart, and renew her feelings of vengeance.

"Mary ..." Ned moaned, mumbling her name in his subconscious state.

Mary's oldest daughter closed her eyes and shut her ears. She pictured the many ways they would die and by they she meant the Seymours. They were a plague on this Earth. Every one of them.

"Ned ..." Her mother stopped calling his name and an eerie silence followed then the tired and satisfied sighs of both of them as they fell asleep.

Anne returned to her chambers that she shared with Meggie. Seeing her sister awake she threw a pillow at her. "Ouch!"

"Shh, do you want to wake the two lovebirds."

"How long this time?" Meggie asked her.

"Two hours and a half."

"How can you tell?"

"I can keep concentrated and keep an exact count on my head. It's a gift." Anne boasted. They had separate beds but neither of them slept apart. Anne told her to move over. Meggie did and Anne slipped under the covers. "Our stepfather hopes to announce tomorrow our betrothals, yours to Dudley's eldest son and mine to a Percy."

"I guess you should be proud. It was said that Anne Boleyn, your namesake, always wanted to marry Percy instead of our grandfather."

"That was never proven and I won't marry him. He can threaten me and punish me all he wants but I will not marry him."

"But it's what she wants."

"It's what they both want, our stepfather is also to blame." Anne reminded her. "Makes me want to tell our Uncle and your cousin, our King Eddie Tudor to grow backbone and tell Edward Seymour to go back to his country states but the Good Duke is a powerful Duke and he would never let go of power and neither will our mother now that she has had a taste of queenship."

Meggie hugged the covers closer to her body. Anne did not mind. She slept fine any way.

"Do you think it's true that our mother is a harlot witch?"

"Must be. She ensnared my father then the good Duke but the only difference is that she did love my father -for a while at least -before the Good Duke came." Anne paused when she noted Meggie's face fell. "Don't be sad Meggie, he is not your father."

"He is." Meggie said silently. "His blood runs in my veins, I have his eyes and his skin."

"Just because he seeded you in our mother's belly does not make him your father."

_Then who is?_ Meggie was about to ask but stopped knowing the answer already and if she said it, Anne would not like it for her hatred for all Seymours extended to her Uncle Thomas.  
Her papa Thomas, the only father she had ever known. Her first word had been papa and it had been said to him when she refused to walk but he encouraged her. He was always there to encourage her when she felt lost or worthless.

_Just because he seeded you does not make him your father._ Anne was right. Blood does not always represent family. Her Uncle was her blood but he was not her direct family yet he was more father to her than her own father.

"I hate my life." Meggie said after Anne finished her rant.

"Do not be so melodramatic Meggie. You have what every girl wants, you have looks and I mean good looks and as long as you have me on your side, you will get a good husband in no time."

"But I don't want a husband." Meggie protested, "I want someone I can love and get to know before I am brought to the altar."

Why did things had to be so complicated? Why couldn't everyone pick and choose whom they married instead of being assigned a partner for life?

"Marriage is not about love dear sister, it's about compromise and power. The more money you have the more prestige you have and for two forgotten girls like you and me, power and prestige means everything."

"I don't care for any of those, you can have them if you want, be my guest, but if I could I would choose love and if I could not I would choose a life of solitude and prayer instead."

"Oh God don't tell me you want to become a nun?"

"Nay, I don't but if I have no other choice, I see no other solution."

Anne moved closer to her sister and rubbed her nose against her.

"Stop it." Meggie said giggling.

"You silly goose Meggie. Girls aren't worth anything without a good husband. Don't worry, I will find you one."

"I am afraid the Good Duke already has."

"Do not be a goose sister I said I would find you one and I will. I will not let my favorite sister be given in matrimony to some Dudley boy." She said and they both giggled at the thought of being married to that God awful man's son.

After they grew tired they blew the light from their candles, closed their eyes, and bid each other good night.

They dreamed of being married for lower, for power, and glory. Anne dreamed of having the last two while Meggie dreamed of having it all while at the same time living in a world where she and her children were always happy and safe.

* * *

**This occurs in the same universe as Three Graces, Proserpine and Four Fates, however it follows the latter closely but might not end up the same. Might or might not continue, hope you liked this one shot in the meanwhile.  
**

**Read / review.**


	2. Chapter 2

**1551**

**Holt Manor**

"Meggie." Thomas told her, he gave her her son to hold her.

"I don't want it." Meggie told him. Every time she held the babe she felt herself slipping from reality. She wanted her father to rot for the rest of his days in prison with his mother. Seldom did her wishes come true. Her father was still alive and he was released thanks to her.

"He is your son."

"I do not want any of them."

Thomas sighed. "Fine." He said taking her son to his new mother.

"She still doesn't want to see him? Ned will come for her tomorrow, any day now we will be forced to host the celebrations, celebrating his return."

"Wonderful." Thomas said shaking his head. "Take care for him of him, will you?"

Kate nodded and entertained her new son, he put him in the bassinet next to his sibling. Thomas returned to his niece, seeing her alone made him go back to the nursery and take with him her son hoping she would hold him this time but the answer was still the same.

"Meggie." He put his arm around her while holding her son in his other one. "I know you don't want to see your father but you will have to. And you will have to tell him the truth. Your son is the rightful heir to the throne, not your Aunt but your son. Are you going to deny him his birthright?"

"Yes. I won't have him turn like his father."

"Margaret-" He used her full name, he reached for her cheek. "You wont' have him turn like his father. Just look at him, sooner or later you will have to tell your father the truth. Your son is the true heir not your Aunt Bella."

"I don't care for the throne. I just" she paused. "I just want him out of my sight. Please."

Tom took him back to his new mother. "She doesn't want to hold him."

It didn't surprise Kate. She placed him back next to his twin sister Ursula.

"Sometimes I wonder if your brother will ever know the truth."

"Ned is not the one to miss things for long but we will make it work. He believes the children are ours and she wants us to keep it that way."

Ned came the morning after. They celebrated his return, they invited Mary's family to come, all of her sisters and their family. They prolonged their stay for the duration of the year.

Ned had many properties nearby, many of which his wife, the Duchess of Somerset refurnished and made grander, fit for the wife of the former de facto King. It was getting harder for Kate and Thomas to meet everyone of their family and Mary's family needs but Ned let them borrow from his purse.

"Hello." Meggie said taking her daughter in her arms. "You are not as bad as your brother, are you?" She asked her, she did not turn in her direction.

Meggie had given up her rights to hold her since she abandoned her and her brother to Kate and Thomas. She placed her in the bassinet, she immediately crawled and snuggled next to her brother.

"Meggie?" Mary asked. She was surprised to see her here. Meggie turned to her mother but turned back saying nothing.

She wished her daughter would trust her like her younger siblings. She walked in her direction and placed a hand on her daughter's shoulder but Meggie shrugged it off.

"They are beautiful aren't they?" Mary said not looking directly at the twins, she merely glanced at them. But they were so peaceful, and the sounds of silence that followed their sleep was a sweet sound. She wished she could be a mother again but after Margery the physicians told her she could never bear children again.

"It was kind of your Aunt and Uncle to name you their godmother, they told me you were sick. It was left up to me and your sister Margery to carry them."

"Yes, I know." Meggie said remembering well. She could not bear the thought of carrying them. It would have been too much. She did not want to reopen the old wounds their father caused her when he took her by force.

Mary finally looked closely at them. She picked the boy, Edward. "You used to cry every time I held you but not this little one. It's hard to believe he is Thomas' son." She said more to herself than to her daughter. She smiled openly at her nephew making silly faces when he opened his eyes so he would laugh. He did.

"Mother," Meggie broke her mother's tender moment with her grandson. "Father is waiting for us."

"Yes, I almost forgot. Just let me stay longer. It has been a while since I had another little one in my arms."

Meggie left her without giving a second glance to her children and her mother.

* * *

Ned kissed his wife openly on the lips. "What kept you?" He asked her.

"Nothing, I was just looking at our niece and nephew. They are adorable children."

"Ha, ha" Ned chuckled. "Adorable? Are you sure they are Thomas' children?"

She slapped his shoulder but he caught her hand in mid air. "It's a grievous offense for a lady of your stature to strike her lord husband. Hm, what will your punishment be?" Ned asked with a mischievous smile and glint on his eyes.

"I wonder what will my lord do? You could lock me up, tie my hands to the bed post and submit to the worst of your tortures."

He smirked. "Do not give me ideas Madame, I might just do it." He said and kissed her again.

"I can't stand this." Kate said leaving the Hall. Before Thomas could stop her, his brother came holding his youngest daughter's hand.

"Ned." Thomas said doing his best not to showcase what he really felt but Ned saw through him. He always did. His brother was not a mystery hard to crack.

"Brother, I've come to bring you my sweet jewel. Margery here wants to learn from Kate and she brings a present to Mary, don't you sweet cheeks?"

"Yes papa. Uncle, Mary told me how much she enjoyed fruit cakes so I baked one for her and I brought her this." Margery extended her hands and showed him a sealed package, big enough to hold a book.

Before Thomas commanded one of his servants to take her present to his chambers so he would check it, making sure it was not something fowl before he gave it to his daughter, Ned spotted his daughter and called her.

Young Mary Seymour walked very slowly, her eyes cast down. "Hello Uncle."

"Mary, your cousin Margery has brought you a gift."

"Gifts, Uncle. Don't want to spoil all the fun for Mary. I bring her many gifts, you will love them Mary." She turned to her cousin and thrust the package in her cousin's hands.

Mary looked up at her father. "Take it." His eyes said.

Mary was unusually tall for her age unlike her cousin Margery whom just by judging by her present stature alone, she would stay petite like her mother and most of the women in her family.

She was like her lady mother in every other way as well, but she had a darkness that nobody saw except Thomas who was very familiar with the dark side, having been in its presence many times before.

She was beautiful. Mary envied her. She had beauty of her own, but her looks were dark, not fair, and her hair was not shiny as her cousin's auburn one which she inherited from her mother. Just as the rest of her features.

"I-I ...Can I open it afterwards?"

"What's the matter Mary? Why don't we do it now, all four of us, together." Ned suggested and Mary nodded.

Thomas and Ned knelt, each besides their daughters. Margery was of the same stature as Mary, the only thing if any she ever envied, and ever would, from her cousin Mary.

She knew it was heresy. Her mother said the Catholic Church was corrupt but her father said it didn't matter who she prayed to, in the end all religions believed in God and they all were just different paths to salvation. Her Uncle Ned, and her Aunt Mary's sister, the Archduchess Dowager and Duchess of Richmond in her own right, the oldest of the Tudor sisters, Isabella Hapsburg Wittelsbach Stark nee Tudor said the same.

She prayed mentally to her namesake the Queen of heaven so she would give her courage in this difficult time. _Please lady of heaven don't abandon me._

Mary opened the package and she gave a great sigh of relief. There was nothing there. No crude joke, no ugly book. Just a prayer book, a copy of the English book of common prayer that had been issued months ago by King Edward VI's Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Cranmer.

"Thank you my lady." She said, though the smile and her gratitude were more meant for her namesake than her cousin.

Margery wrapped her perfectly thin arm around her cousin's pudgy form. "I knew you'd like it. Papa said I had to get you something fancy, something special, but I said that my cousin would like something to read instead. I am so happy you liked it Mary." She kissed her cousin's cheek.

Ned rubbed his daughter's shoulder. "You did well sweet cheeks." He told her using the pet name her Aunt Bella had given her.

She and Ned left afterwards and returned to their mother's company who was happily conversing with her sisters. Margery took the opportunity to engage in idle conversation with her cousin Marcus whom she found very dull, but he was always nice to have around with because you could always make fun of him and he was so dumb he never realized it.

After the celebration when everyone had gone to bed. Mary opened her book of common prayer. Her parents were reading her favorite bedtime story, the death of King Arthur by Sir Thomas Mallory published in the last century. It was her favorite book. Her Aunt and Uncle had given it to her for her fifth birthday last year. As Thomas closed the book she grabbed Margery's gift and she started crying when she saw what was written.

"Mary?" Kate asked, narrowing her eyes as Mary hid her face in her knees and hugged them.

"Mary? Darling, what's wrong?"

Thomas took the book she dropped and looked at the middle. His blood boiled when he saw what her cousin had written in big bold letters.

**YOU BIG FATSO, YOU ARE AN ABOMINATION TO THE LAWS OF MAN AND GOD. YOU BIG FAT, FAT GIRL. ENJOY YOUR FRUIT CAKE FATSO, YOU DO NOTHING BUT EAT AND EAT. YOU ARE DISGUSTING. NO WONDER THE STABLE BOY STUFFED YOUR SHOES WITH GOAT SHIT.**

Thomas ripped the paper in a million peaces and hissed in anger, throwing the book across the room, breaking one of the windows.

Mary sobbed violently refusing to glance at her parents. Thomas told her what Margery had written and she tried to make her daughter feel better whispering soothing words in her ear but it only made her cry harder.

"You are beautiful darling, when you were born your father said you were the brightest baby he had ever seen."

"No, I am not. Daddy only says that because he is my father and you say it to make me feel better but I am not beautiful."

"Mary you are beautiful, you should know better than listen to your cousin, she is an angry and disturbed child that is what she is."

"No, she is not. She is beautiful, everyone loves her. I am just a fat pig everyone makes fun of!" She squealed and she thought she sounded more like a pig now. I am not a pig, I am not a pig, I am not a pig! She kept repeating over and over but nobody heard her.

Her fat little hands covered her ears, her fingernails dug deep into her skin. Thomas noted she was bleeding and took out his handkerchief and wiped the blood from her ears.

"Let me see." He forced her hands away from her ears and she glanced at him. "I am fat."

Thoma said nothing. Nothing he said could make things better. She had already decided her cousin spoke the truth.

However seeing her broken down and sobbing in her mother's arms as she took her, made him say, "You are not fat."

"Yes, I am. Everyone says I stuff my mouth with food, they say I am a glutton because God is punishing you through me."

"Who told you that?"

"Margery and the stable boy David you evicted last summer. They said I was a glutton." She squealed and Kate tightened her embrace.

Thomas took over and placed his arms around his daughter. He rocked her and forth as he did when she was a babe. He decided to speak to his brother the following morning. Ned questioned his daughter, he brought her to his brother's study but Margery denied having any knowledge of the letter.

"I swear to you papa, I didn't have anything to do with it. Uncle Thomas, I am so sorry Mary saw that, maybe I should to go to her-"

Thomas closed the door behind him and looked down at her with cold eyes. Margery felt herself growing smaller. She hid behind her father's legs.

"It's alright Margery, what your Uncle means is this is no time for making unexpected visits." He knelt to her daughter's eye level. She was the only one of his children who didn't inherit his looks or his stature. Mary and she -if it were not for the age difference- could have passed for twins. They even had the same smile, Margery's eyes glinted the same way when she was amused or surprised.

Ned loved everything about her. He asked her again if she knew nothing about the letter. Margery swore she didn't and Ned believed her. On his insistence Thomas opened the door and let her go.

"We will find who did."

You really are that naive. Thomas wanted to shout. He squeezed his fists when he returned to his daughter's chambers. She and Kate had fallen asleep in each others' arms. Thomas slipped under the covers and rested his head on the pillow.

* * *

Margery giggled when she slipped the note to Isaac, that poor boy who fancied her. He reminded her of Marcus, he was dark haired, green eyed and just as handsome but unlike her younger cousin, he did not think things through.

Marcus was dull but at least he thought things through -_When he wanted_.

Isaac did as she bid him. He confessed to putting the note in Margery's book. Thomas whipped him afterwards. She did not think her Uncle would believe him but he did, otherwise he would have whipped the boy so hard, or perhaps he didn't but he whipped him anyway because it was so good to take it out on a poor innocent boy when he couldn't take it out on the true culprit.

* * *

**Companion piece to Three Graces, Proserpine, and Four Fates but not necessarily follows the last one.  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**1552**

**Hertfordshire, Somerset Manor  
**

"Margaret." Edward used her full name. She didn't answer. "Your Uncle is here, he brings your cousin with him."

"Tell him I don't want t see him." Margaret said taking off her snood. She had been readied to go to bed. Her long golden curls came cascading all the way down reaching her waist.

"Meggie he really wants to talk to you."

"Why?"

"His son is old as you are. This alliance would benefit us."

"How?" Meggie inquired, looking at her own reflection.

"A son of the House of Seymour and Howard would create a powerful alliance and like York unite all of the sisters' bloodlines. Your sister is already betrothed to Marcus, it would be wise that you take his offer."

"Is he making the proposal himself?"

"Yes."

Meggie put her brush down and stared at her father. "In that case tell him I will be down any minute."

"Thank you Meggie, you won't regret this I promise."

"No, I will." Meggie said when he closed her chamber doors.

She came down an hour later, still in her nightgown, yet still dressed discreetly to greet her Uncle, the Duke of Norfolk and his only surviving son, Thomas Henry Howard, her cousin.

"Cousin." He greeted bowing his head in deep respect. Meggie followed suit.

Ned did the introductions although there was hardly any need, Meggie had known her cousin since they were little, her youngest sister Margery would visit his states every weekend when they were near. She was best friends with his sister, Lady Eleanor. Their fathers decided to leave the two cousins alone to discuss their impending union. Ned Seymour whispered in her daughter's ear to be on her best behavior before he left.

"Do you like horses Lady Margaret?" Thomas Henry asked his cousin.

Meggie shook her head. It had been months since she rode any. She'd gotten used to ride in carriages.

"So you don't ride anymore?"

"Except for the horses my Uncle gives me every year for my birthday I don't." An awkward silence followed. "Do you, cousin?" She asked him.

"As a matter of fact I do. You remember I used to chase after you and Margery when you rode with my sister Nor, it was very fun back then. It was always me chasing after you or you and Margery and Nor chasing after me, now the irony we are chasing each other."

A chuckle escaped her lips at the word he used.

"It's been a long time since I rode for fun." She confessed. "Your father used to tell us not to go deep into the woods, I remember your mother, Aunt Margaret was angry when she found us sneaking into her cottage."

"Mother was always angry about something. God rest her soul, she would love to see us now, here you and me about to be united in holy matrimony." Thomas said, "That won't be of course until your father agrees on the marriage conditions my father proposes which I am certain he will. My father plans to give half of his estates once we are betrothed." He quickly added. "We would be wed as soon as the King grants us his permission. You will like my manors, they are still the same but most of them lack a woman's touch. I've been told by your lady mother that you have an affinity for running things here when she's not around."

"I do." She said. "My mother is not used to running things on her own, when my father is not present she wants everything to be done fast, she doesn't take many things into consideration."

"You do?"

"I have learned from the best." Meggie told him, remembering her first lessons from her grandfather's fourth wife, the late Anne of Cleves. "A house is no different than running a court I guess and Lady of Cleves was extremely god at it, she was also very patient. There is a lot I learned from her."

"Then I couldn't have asked for a better wife then." Thomas said with a smile. Meggie's eyes moved down, looking at him from top to bottom as if he was something she would buy from the market place. He was handsome, he looked clever, he was tall, and he had royal blood flowing through his veins through both his parents and furthermore he was her first cousin. She would not be going away to a distant land but marrying into her family and what was even more, she would be a Countess and later a Duchess. She would rank higher than every one of her sisters, including Margery.

This last thought made her smile.

His father came at that moment with a bright expression on his face. "His Grace here has informed me that he can ride to the King first thing tomorrow morning. Your cousin will not deny you this request Margaret. Soon you will be Lady Margaret Howard, Countess of Surrey -and," he added his eyes locked with hers, gleaming with ambition. "Duchess of Norfolk. How do you like that?"

She gave him the answer he wanted. "I could not be happier." She avoided calling him father, but in that moment, savoring his triumph, Ned hardly cared.

* * *

The approval came a week later and they were married in a private ceremony where the King was unable to attend but he sent his chaplain to perform the ceremony and his companion, Barnaby Fitzpatrick, Lord Pembroke, in his stead.

"You must feel happy." Mary said taking a bite of her salad. Her parents had her on a strict diet. She could not eat anything that didn't have any greens on it.

"I do, but I am happier to have you and your parents here."

"They are happy too. Did you know that mama says I've slimmed down two inches? I will be as thin as Margery."

"Ha, ha that sounds great Mary, but don't slim down to be like Margery. You are perfect the way you are, there is no need to change."

"There is." Mary countered. "Papa says that once I slim down Margery will not make fun of me anymore."

"Your papa is right but Margery is not the type of person to let go of her toys. Remember how she didn't stop making fun of John after he lost his bunny?"

"Yes." Mary's face fell. "I miss Nymph. Who do you think took her?"

"I don't know, probably that stable boy. You told me he was mean to you."

"He couldn't have taken it. Nobody knew where we kept Nymph. Do you think she's still alive Meggie?"

"Yes." Meggie lied not wanting to hurt her cousin's feelings.

"Where are you going?" Mary asked when Meggie rose from her chair after seeing her cousin Charlie coming her way.

She didn't answer her.

"Your Grace." She greeted her cousin Charlie. He was seven years older her and taller, and she was tall than most girls. "Charlie," she said, "You haven't changed a bit."

"And you still as beautiful Margaret." He said. "Congratulations on your union. Our cousin is a lucky man."

"Charlie please don't, I have known you since we were little and I can tell when you're lying. You don't have to lie to me, I know what you think of him and it's the same opinion I have."

"Why marry him then?" Charlie asked, perplexed that she would after she just confessed her disdain for him.

"I don't hate him." Meggie said knowing what he was thinking. "He is kind, he is letting me keep my income and my father still sends me my allowance-"

"But?"

"He is not you."

His eyes searched her, dark grey against dark blue, he saw no lie in them. He clasped his hands together and lightly shook his head, forcing himself to look away. His younger siblings were dancing with other members of the family, enjoying themselves, oblivious of the pain their brother and mother's heir was experiencing.

"You could have waited." He said, his voice as his eyes distant. "I have missed you. I wrote to you every day when you and your Uncle Thomas were at court appealing to Edward to release your father from the tower."

"I know, I am sorry I did not respond. I was not well at the time." She said.

"Why marry him? He is not going to make you happy." _I can_ -he wanted to say.

She understood his meaning quite well for she said, "It's not happiness I care about but stability. Thomas can provide me with it and maybe who knows,' she shrugged, "in the long run I could be happy. Stranger things have happened." She said with a smirk.

Charlie didn't buy it. "I love you Margaret, if you tell your father now the huge mistake he's made, I can speak with my mother and together we will make sure the King annuls your marriage."

"Charlie no please. It's too much. You are a Prince, a Duke in your own right, I am just the daughter of a commoner, and not even an acknowledged one. It's better you forget about me and marry while you are still young. I am sure there are many girls to choose from in Court."

"There are but they all have the same problem. None of them are you."

They looked at each other, a huge knot had formed in their throat. Just then her father came to introduce her to her aunt's new friend and her cousin, the King's royal councilor, Sir William Cecil.

Charlie watched as her father took her away and she turned her back, becoming entrenched in the conversation of her father, Aunt and Sir William Cecil, without a single glance at him.

He turned his back and stepped down from the artificial dais her Aunt had set up for this special occasion and returned to his table, where his siblings, Marcus and Philip were in idle conversation with their cousin, Margery Seymour -Marcus' betrothed.

* * *

"Ursula." Mary called to her niece. The babe recognized her voice and lifted her pudgy arms and raised herself up.

It was the first time Thomas had seen his daughter stand on her two feet and he was envious.

"She reminds me of Margery, one word and she would stand."

Thomas said nothing. He watched the interaction between grandmother and granddaughter.

They were unaware of their secret connection but they got along just fine.

Mary handed her back to Thomas and returned to her chambers where she found Margery and her cousins, Marcus and Philip asleep on the sette. She did not wake them.

"Margery?" Ned asked as his wife slipped under the covers.

"Asleep," she answered, "with Marcus and Philip on top of her. Poor boys."

"Poor Margery. She is going to wake up with a back pain. Did you tell them to go back to their chambers?"

"Of curse not, they had a long night, you know my sister's Bavarian brood, they are not used to this excitement."

"As long as they don't wake before we do, they can fall asleep on our outer chamber as much as they like." Ned said, his voice slurred.

Mary kissed his mouth, her hands traveled down to his breeches, unlacing them, and afterwards searching every corner of his body.

Margery, a light sleeper, awoke. She did not wake her sleeping cousins, she tip toed to her parents' privy chambers and there, opening the door slightly so her suspicions could be confirmed, the eleven year old saw them engaging in lewd acts.

* * *

**Companion vignettes to Three Graces, Proserpine, and Four Fates but not necessarily follows the last one.**


	4. Chapter 4

**1552-1553  
**

**Hertfordshire, Somerset Manor  
**

"Margery. Are you here to greet your sister?"

"Yes mama, I brought her this." Margery showed her what she made for her.

"It's beautiful but make sure not to go alone."

"Why not?" Margery asked. "Is Uncle Thomas going to be there?" Mary nodded her head, she knelt to her eye level and whispered to scream if anything happened.

"I promise it won't mama. You know I can defend myself from anything."

"I know but be careful." Mary warned her and made her promise not to go without her ladies.

Her ladies accompanied her to Meggie, now Countess of Surrey. "Hello Meggie, look what I brought –" Her voice died down as her uncle entered. "Oh hi, Uncle, look what I brought you Meggie." She said switching glances to Meggie.

She did not pay her uncle any attention, he was not important, Meggie was. She was her sister and she knew acknowledged or not, they were full blooded sisters and not half like her other siblings, Arthur and Annie. It was her mission in life to make Meggie like her, Margery always admired her, to her she was this great giant she wanted to grow up as and she secretly loved her more than her parents.

"Don't you like it? Open it please." Meggie begged handing her sister the other package she took from one of her ladies.

Meggie did not glance at the first gift. It was a useless trinket that said the words 'My biggest sister'. Meggie was tired of her useless trinkets. "It's wonderful." However she said putting the second one aside, still unopened.

It broke Margery's heart, she began to cry. "Aren't you going to open it? I made it just for you."

"Margery just leave me please. I need to be alone."

"Why? Mama said you would like it, look …" she took the gift from Margery's bed and began unwrapped it, it revealed to be a beautiful book of hours, on the cover was a woman with dark hair and blue eyes, very beautiful. "You know who this is? It's our grandmother, Lady Katherine of Aragon. Mother said you would like it. Please take it, I had it restored for you and I added more prayers."

Meggie did not listen, she looked away , rose and left the room. Margery appealed to her Uncle's good conscience –if he has any left, she thought- but he didn't bother to look at her.

Things were going so well until Ned's little brat had to come. God, how he hated her. The sight of her reminded him of her mother and Ned. Everything that had been denied to Meggie, had been given to her. She was going to marry a Prince of the blood; although Lady Isabella was deemed illegitimate, because of the act of succession it made her first in line to the throne of England along with her heirs if his nephew had no issue.

Margery had a claim as well, a very slim chance that she would inherit, but the claim was there and married to Lord Marcus both their claims would be stronger, it also made all of the Tudor sisters' claims stronger.

Margery returned to her chambers. She tore her lady grandmother's book of hours to shreds and threw it to the fire afterwards, watching it burned, until it turned to cinders.

"What's wrong? Margery, what is this?" Mary demanded, tears on her face as well to see her mother's dearest possession destroyed.

"It's Meggie, mama, she did not want the gift. She said it had to be destroyed or she would not speak to me again and Uncle Thomas tore the pages I had written for her."

"God, Margery that is no reason to burn my mother's gift. It's the only thing I have left of her. Everything else has been taken by my brother and his new ministers …" Mary broken down as she tried to salvage what was left but there was nothing left but ashes_. My mother's_ … she thought, tears falling down her cheeks.

Margery was tempted to tell her more but she saw that enough damage was done so she left her alone.

* * *

Mary could not stay mad for long. This was her daughter, her darling Margery. What she told her afterwards of the real reason why she burned the book, she believed it.

Margery had never told a lie, she was an obedient and loyal daughter.

"Next time tell me first," Mary said. Margery nodded, nuzzling her head against her mother's breast as her mother held her in a tight embrace. "I warned you not to go when your Uncle was there. I don't want any more troubles with that man and his family."

"Mama are you scared? He is no one, you are the daughter of Katherine of Aragon and Henry VIII. You outrank him. Papa outranks him."

"That may be sweetheart but your papa does not want the family to be broken apart. Remember what I told you about disunity. This represents our family. See?" Mary held out her hand, five fingers, her skin flawless as ever. She slowly closed her hand transforming it into a fist. "This represents union, separated we are nothing but individual pieces, we can be killed, we can be attacked, they can do whatever they want with us, but united, we are invincible."

"Is that why you married Meggie to my cousin?"

"Yes, and very soon you will marry Marcus. He will make you very happy but make no mistake Margery, marriage is a contract not between two people but between two Houses, in this case your father's House and the House of Bavaria."

"You married father when he was only the late Queen's brother, he was no more important than the Dudleys are now, yet you married him."

"That is different, your father told me to and a daughter must always do what her father says."

Margery looked at her funny then she shook her head and said with a laugh, "I don't think so."

They laughed together and fell asleep on each other's arms.

* * *

Margery wrote to her mother. She told her it was wiser not to but she had to, otherwise she would lose her mind. Their uncle had them all under strict surveillance. Lord Warwick was their jailer, he watched Meggie, Anne and her older cousins more closely. She was just a midget, the same height as her mother she would not grow any taller and she was of no importance, betrothed to a younger son of the King's eldest sister. She was no one.

She gave her letter to her mother's loyal lady in waiting. Aging Lady Susan had been with them since before she was born, she would not betray her. Unlike the rest, she could not be bought, she could not be threatened, she was fiercely loyal to her mistress.

Susan delivered the letter to her mother who was in her sister's camp. They had fought and won the first of many battles. Her daughter told her she and her siblings were doing fine and the rest of the Tudor children as well. Susan told Mary that she had no trouble on the road. Dudley as the rest were growing scared. Edward could be deposed or in the worst of all case scenarios, killed, and if that were to happen, traitor or not her eldest sister would become England's legitimate Queen.

Mary's best friend returned to Kimbolton, ironically where the sisters' children were being held. She searched the castle for any signs of life since it appeared to be desolate even from a distance. She was about to give up all hope when she heard cries coming from a nearby cottage. It was on fire and she called a group of passing men to help her. They were unsure if they should but hearing the children's cries, being fathers themselves, they did.

Susan managed to get everyone out. The youngest of them, Marianne, very much like her mother was telling everyone to shut up and behave according their stations. She did not cry, she did not shed a tear, her face was unreadable but Susan guessed that she was just as afraid as the rest.

Susan threw some of her jewels as payment to the men and led the girls to the stables where they took the horses that were left. The youngest rode behind the older ones, holding unto them tightly; they met the Queen to be in her camp.

Seeing her children covered in ash, Mary ran to them. Bella's husband did the same and wrapped his arms around his only daughter then turned to her half-siblings, inquiring after them. The oldest Charlie, his hands were burned but they would heal as they were not serious burns. He and his youngest brother Marcus had tried to break everyone free. Marianne told everyone that Lord Warwick, Dudley's eldest son, had received a message that the King was dead and before her mother knew, he decided to take revenge. Taking all the children into one cottage, he himself gave the order to set it on fire, than he and his son rode back to London where they hoped to install the teenager Jane Grey who had recently married one of their own, as their Queen.

Their plan was unsuccessful. Susan thanked God and the saints. This was a divine sign, she was sure of it. If God had not interceded through Margery and Mary, they would have never made it on time. All of the sisters' heirs would have been lost.

* * *

By the time they reached London, the halls of what had once been the great palace of Placentia, were deserted. Everyone had been the victim of a great plague, the only survivor had been the nine day Queen who was a Queen no longer.

Bella, as her Lacastrian ancestors and her Plantagenet forebears, took the throne by force and placed the crown upon her head. She assumed the role as head of the Church just as her father and brother had done before her. She did not legitimize any of her sisters as she believed that would only cause disunity between them. Some recognized Elizabeth was the legitimate heir, albeit a minority, the new Queen did not want to give them a reason to further their riots.

Things stayed as with her father and she continued many of her brother's settlements, with the minor contrast that she did not impose the Anglican Church on every citizen. People were free to worship as they pleased, so as long as they attended one Anglican service in the period of a year, and swore fealty to their new monarch.

* * *

Margery brought a new puppy with her to her chambers in Westminster Palace where everyone was staying for the duration of the celebrations, commemorating her Aunt's accession.

She showed her new pet to her father who doted on her more than ever. She had survived an assassination attempt and came out stronger. She did not cry, she no longer complained, and she was fearless than she had ever been.

"It's beautiful sweet cheeks. But a wolf is not a pet."

"Mine is." She said defiantly, "I found it. And his mother was dying so he has nowhere else to go."

"How do you know it's a he?"

"Because he nearly bit Arthur when he called me a bitch."

Edward could not help but laugh. Arthur and Anne Boleyn had been making fun non-stop of their youngest sister since her birth. They hated her, their hatred stemmed from the fact their mother married her father not long after their father was executed and on top of that, had his child before that and disguised that child as her late husband's.

"Let us see him." Ned took the wolf pup and ruffled the top of his head. He was beautiful, golden and with a grey line on his head, he was exactly as the new crest he had adopted for his now royal House.

* * *

"I give her ten minutes with one of our pooches. She will be squealing like a pig." Arthur said. The day following the end of the celebrations they returned to Hampshire to Beaulieu.

The Boleyn twins crooked their finger, taking Margery with them. They made sure her wolf pup was out of reach. It had gotten abnormally big for just a one month old pup and it had bit Arthur when he tried to kill it. He and Anne had put in a kennel. If it tried to flee the dogs would tear him to pieces.

"What do you want to show me?" She asked her older siblings, her mother's offspring from her first marriage.

"Here," Anne led her to the fountain, the pristine environment around it, the gardens blooming with white and red roses, gave the appearance of an Eden, an eternal paradise.

The waters were deep and as Margery began to grow suspicious, having heard a tale of not so different an attempt she had tried on her middle sister, Meggie, she pulled away and began screaming.

"Grab her." Anne commanded her brother. Arthur took Margery's shoulders; kicking and screaming he dumped her on the fountain where her screams died as she swallowed water and she could feel herself fading away.

Just then she heard a scream. "What the hell is going on here?!"

* * *

Ned heard the low whimpers coming from the kennel. Odd. Margery took her wolf pup 'Orion' everywhere. "Where is Margery?" He asked, as if he understood him, the beast sprang to his feet and ran in her direction. Ned followed him.

When he heard his daughter's screams and his wife's oldest children's laughter, it didn't take him long to put two and two together.

"What the hell is going on here?!"

Ned's gaze followed Orion's; it pointed to the fountain. Ned retrieved his daughter and slapped on her back so she would cough.

Margery cried, she wrapped her thin arms around her father's neck. She was so thin but healthy, but at the moment she looked so fragile, that he feared she would break.

Ned's eyes turned to the Boleyn children. "You, if it weren't for your mother, I would have cut you down to pieces. Get out!" Arthur and Anne, realizing the trouble they were in, ran to their chambers. They were in for it this time.

Ned took Margery to his and Mary's chambers. She didn't want to believe her children could be capable of such a thing and that Anne (who had since been calm) could try the same thing she had tried with Meggie, on Margery this time.

"They must be sent away." Mary looked away. "Mary, look at me." She did. "I am not going to have them be on the same house as you and the rest of our children."

Mary searched in her head for anything she could use to defend her eldest children, but she found none. Ned was right. They had gone too far. Meggie gone, they had become worse and they were not children any longer. They were both nineteen, young man and woman, they needed to take responsibilities for their actions.

* * *

They were sent to separate houses. Arthur would not stand living apart from his sister so he married. As his stepfather told his mother before, he was a man and under the law he could do what he wanted. The lucky bride was Lady Amy Rosbart who'd been previously engaged to Robert Dudley prior to his death.

That only left Anne but she was a girl and she legally still fell under stepfather's protection.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks to Mimi, Couture, Pebbles, Amaranthe, Alix of France, Boleyn, Dude, Narcissa to give me the encouragement to continue. Hugs to you and wish you the best in all of your projects and in your life.  
**

* * *

**1553**

**Redbourn, Hertfordshire, Howard Household**

This had once been the prison of another Howard wife, the infamous Elizabeth Stafford whom her husband's grandfather had locked in here after he tired of her and given the rest of his properties to his true wife in all but name, Bess Holland. Now Meggie was its prisoner.

She had another miscarriage. Her father was furious, he blamed her husband –or so he alleged. But the truth was he blamed her. Her failures had cost her family more money and more efforts. She wasn't fertile, her husband's seed was strong, spreading it wherever he could, in the housemaids and any other wench he encountered, but he couldn't in her. Her body was not strong enough to bear her children and in any case, she didn't want to bear another child. She had had enough when she bore the twins.

Meggie received a visit from her younger cousins, John and Mary. They were her best friend. It was a sad thing to say but she felt closer to her cousins and her half-siblings then she did to her full blooded ones.

"We bring you this." Mary said handing Meggie a miniature portrait she painted of her cousin.

"You did it yourself?"

"Yes, I was helped by Mor, but I am pretty good. Papa says that if I were a man I would be a painter."

"You can still be a painter, cousin. The detail is amazing." Meggie remarked, astounded by her cousin's talent, the portrait was so real, it was like staring back at her own reflection.

"I hope you don't mind that I changed your eyes from dark blue to sapphire since you always said you prefer papa's eyes over yours."

"No, I don't mind at all. It's perfect, makes me look younger."

John chuckled. He told his cousin she was not old. "You are the second most beautiful girl in Engand.

"After whom?"

"After my sister and mother of course."

"Then you mean I am the third most beautiful."

John chuckled. "Not fair cousin, you are smarter than me, I stand no chance against these arguments." He said then gave her his own present which brought a full smile to her lips. "You remembered." She told him.

"How could I not remember? You screamed every time your father took it from you. I remember father saying she has lungs like a boy."

"That is because I am a boy, I may possess the weak body of a girl but inside beats the heart of a man."

"Dear cousin, tsk, tsk, tsk, your father would be angry if he heard you."

"Oh hush John, he is no father of mine, yours is, has been since he first held me in his arms. He was the one who sang songs to me, stayed until I fell asleep and would check my temperature when I was sick. You know how they say it's always parents and godparents that do that but not with me. My father was too busy warming mama's bed, she was his first priority." She scowled at the mention of her mother. "I have no memory of my father except my papa."

"And that is …"

"Yours," she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She took a wine goblet resting on the table next to her and poured herself more wine.

"How fares the little monster?" Meggie asked changing topics. "I haven't heard from my father in months. Tell me how is our darling Margery?"

She could not hide the utter disdain and hatred she felt for her father's youngest daughter and precious jewel. "Is she going to marry our little warrior Prince, Marcus?"

"Not yet. They've made another offer."

"Who?"

"The French." Mary said, telling her of Henri II ambassadors inspecting Marcus and seeing that he was the better bargain. His brother had been taken ill last month and the physicians could do nothing to stop the disease expect praying. If he died, his younger brother, Prince Marcus, would become Duke of Bavaria and Count Palatine in his own right and as a result Duke of York. Second in line after his oldest brother, Charlie, Prince of Wales.

"They say a marriage between Elisabeth and Marcus will profit everyone."

"You mean it will profit the King of France who has Spain on his tail." Meggie said. "Why should my Aunt accept it anyway? Henri has never been sincere about anything before. He promised my Aunt support when she fled to France, he gave her none but a meager army and now he wants to do the same. He will stab her in the back and a daughter of the House of Valois will be faithful only to one nation, and that nation is France."

"She needs an alliance desperately, Charlie won't accept it, Marcus is the only one left."

"What about Katherine?" Meggie proposed. "Charlie's sister can be married to the Dauphin or the Dauphin's brother."

"Yes but the King of France has his eyes set on Scotland as well, he doesn't want to stop there. If your old boyfriend refuses his daughter, he will use Mary and whatever claim she has to the throne of England." John told her. "It's too dangerous an offer to pass up, if your Aunt is as smart as you say she is, she will accept it."

Meggie said nothing. She wanted Charlie to accept the offer instead. He was the Prince of Wales and he had been stalling on his marriage for a year now. It was high time he found himself a wife and fathered children which was the Tudor dynasty needed at the moment.

Another part of her wished it would be so because she felt some pity for Margery. Some, very little, but it was there. Margery cared for Marcus. They had grown up together and become very close over the years. Marcus cared for her as well. It would be cruel on her Aunt's part if she did not honor her promise.

"You should be happy on any case. Your father was never the better man to step aside and let others take his daughter's position and as far as he is concerned, our cousin is fit to be a Queen."

Queen of thorns that's more like it, thought Meggie but she said nothing as John and Mary continued their discussion.

When it came time for them to leave, Mary asked Meggie if she could ask her a personal question. "Of course, spit it out." Meggie said laughing, but Mary did not laugh as she did other times. "What is it Mary?"

"Meggie, do you ever wonder what life would have been like if … if …"

"If what?" Meggie asked, knowing the question yet in her curiosity she could not help but ask.

Mary was surprised by her cousin's cutting tone but she was determined to ask it. "If you and Edward would … if your children would have been recognized?"

Meggie pondered. Edward VI had been a very disturbed boy, by the end of his reign he had been plagued by nightmares and imagined that his sickness was God's way of telling him he had to finish with every one of the unbelievers, the heretics, the papists that were a plague on his land. She pitied him. She really did. Madness was a terrible curse on men, especially boy Kings.

"No." She said and repeated when Mary raised a skeptical eyebrow. "No, I do not Mary."

Mary was about to press on but the look on her cousin's face told her the conversation was over.

Meggie walked her to her carriage where her father and mother were waiting. John was already inside. Meggie nearly broke at the sight of her daughter, Ursula, in Aunt Kate's arms.

"Aunt, Uncle." She greeted them.

Her Aunt and Uncle stepped down and gave her a farewell embrace. When Thomas embraced her niece, Meggie called him by his proper title in her heart, papa. He gave her a quick kiss on her cheek then went back to his carriage with Kate and Ursula.

Leave it. Meggie told herself that night as she imagined Ursula. What it must have been to say her first word. To say mama and not be there to hear it.

You gave up on her. Her mind told her. And for good reason –she responded. What life could I have given them? They would have been in constant danger if I had.

* * *

News of the broken betrothal between Elisabeth and Marcus, now Duke of York upon his brother Philip's death, reached them. Margery's position was now secure. The Queen renewed her promise to marry her second eldest son to Margery. The date was set for February 28 of next year. Margery was ecstatic.


	6. Chapter 6

**1554 - 1555**

**From Norfolk to London**

"Mother." Meggie showed her newborn.

Her parents had rode all the way from Hertfordshire where she had previously resided to Kenninghall to see their newborn grandchildren. They stayed for the duration of the fall.

Her son was only a month old but he was thriving. He was not sickly like his twin. Mary considered it a blessing her daughter delivered twins but she a curse. She'd given birth to twins once and it nearly killed her. What would these do to her? Would they be taken away from her as her last children? It seemed so.

Her mother said they had to be fed by a wet nurse and placed under the care of a governess.

"No," Meggie protested, "They stay with me." She said firmly but in the end her mother won, backed up by her father.

"They are children of royal blood and nobles, your son will someday be the fourth Duke of Norfolk and third Earl of Surrey, you can't deny him his rights."

"They stay with me." She maintained. "I bore them, I carried them for nine months, you cannot ask me to give them up." She said fiercely clutching her daughter whom her husband had named Alice –since he deemed the name Margaret to painful a reminder of both his mother and their favorite Aunt, Margaret Douglas, who died of consumption last summer.

Against her objections her mother managed to tore little Alice from her arms and gave her to her father who in turn, gave her to his wet nurse.

Meggie cried and begged her parents to return her daughter. The boy she didn't care, but she knew of the bond of twins, she had seen it with her other children. They couldn't live without the other. But her parents did not listen. They had their way.

When Margery came to visit her again, for the fifth time this month bearing gifts Meggie threw them in her face, one of them was a ring and it scratched her left ear drawing blood.

"I just wanted to make you feel better."

Meggie smirked. "I just wanted to make you feel better." She mocked. She leaned forward and grabbed the little wench by her bodice. "Stay out of my way. I don't want to see, hear, or listen from you again. I hate you."

"But we are sisters. We are supposed to love each other."

_Little bastard, this girl should be the one punished not me,_ she thought but fate had a strange sense of humor. "We are not sisters, you are my enemy and we share nothing in common except our father's blood. You are my rival, you have always been since the minute our father conceived you. You brought nothing but trouble. Why, you are being given to a Prince instead of a Duke or Count as I."

Margery rebuked, her voice controlled, and her eyes deeply fixated on her sister's. "Papa says it's the best for our family. He says that Marcus and I-" She was cut off by Meggie cupping her chin.

"Ow! You are hurting me." She squealed but it did not make Meggie pity her. She saw only Mary, Anne, all the people she had hurt by her actions and her existence alone.

Finally she let her go but not before she said "I will pray for you Margery when you marry Marcus. Believe me sister, I will wish you the very best."

"Really?" Margery asked her, her dark grey eyes hopeful. Not even that she had inherited from her father, she was all Mary Tudor. The perfect daughter, the perfect copy. Meggie grinned.

"Of course, we are sisters after all."

"Thank you sister!" Margery ran towards her sister and twined her arms around her sister's waist. She was so tall, Margery always admired her, she wanted to be like her big sister and even like Anne. Anne was so proper, her dark looks made everyone turn and she heard the young men at court say her eyes were exotic. Dark hooks for the soul –their exact words. But it was she, Margery, who was to outshine them, and yet she wanted their approval. She needed it. Just like every child, she wanted her family to love her, all her family.

When Margery let go she gave her sister go and left, but just as she was at the door she heard Meggie's mocking laughter and words that sent a permanent chill down her spine.

"You will need it little sister, Marcus intends to wed a pliant and submissive wife, he will not settle for an untamable shrew. Have a happy marriage Margery." She said with last smile, waving her hand at her, as Margery turned away and left her chambers disappointed.

* * *

The day of the wedding came. They were married in the Queen's closet. The Archbishop of Canterbury, the highest cleric in England, performed the ceremony.

She was only fourteen and he twelve but he had had his first woman, it was rumored, a year before that. Yet he was prudent and didn't boast about it like his older brother.

Marcus was no longer the third son but the second son and second in line to the throne of England. Dark auburn hair, dark blue eyes, fair skin, every girl dreamed of bedding him, the older women whispered amongst themselves that they wished they were thirty years younger. Every woman wanted him but he was going to be hers by oath.

Everyone was in high spirits. Even Anne, her oldest sister. It would be a great opportunity to find a husband. God only knew she needed one. Arthur was safe, he was lucky. He was born a man. She did not have such luck.

A woman had to make her own luck. As her Aunt, she would make her own, selling her virtue to the highest bidder and as of this moment, she had her eyes set on two men, two very handsome and rich men.

* * *

The night everyone had anticipated blessed the Duke of York's bed and drew the curtains so no one would see, then everyone left as they heard Marcus' grunts.

It was nothing like her mother had said. It was painful. Her insides ached. She cried when he took her again and again. No more –she begged, but no words came, instead she remained silent imitating his sounds, giving him the false sense that he pleased her.

And after he did what he did, he whispered in her ear "I love you... my little Margery," then fell asleep on her chest.


	7. Chapter 7

**1555-1556**

**Westminster, Holt, and Hampton**

"Margery."

"Margery."

Margery's head snapped. She didn't know how long he had been yelling. "What is it?"

Her father sighed. "I am asking if the Prince was gentle with you."

"Edward, this is hardly the place-"

But Edward did not heed her request and asked again. "Was he gentle with you? Yes or no?"

"Yes."

"Good. You will spend all afternoons at this table informing us how your nights went."

"And if I don't want to –I mean …" she paused, licking her lips, her hands trembling. She searched her brain for any excuse, "… what if Marcus visits me?"

"Then send a messenger. This is a matter of high importance. The Prince of Wales is without heirs, you and Marcus are young. If you are wise you will keep him away from other women that can be a threat to both you and your children."

"Yes father." Margery said nodding her head obediently.

She went to bed that same night. Marcus eyed her with admiration, not love but admiration. She sighed inwardly. He told her to lie down and she did and just as every other night he took her and dumped his seed in her womb.

* * *

"Mary," giggled Kate, taking her daughter's hand. "What do you have there? It's expensive."

"My papa gave it to me and Margery's husband gave me something too."

"Really? What?" Kate asked, very interested.

Mary said it was a secret but seeing her mama's serious face she finally relented and asked her to come forward to whisper in her ear. "He gave me a kiss on my cheek when Margery said my dress was ugly and that I should listen only to myself then he said my dress is beautiful."

"That sounds wonderful but you know better than to butt in Margery's business."

"But mama, she said I had to come and I can't deny her or else she will punish me."

"How can she punish you? Did she tell you that?" Mary nodded. Kate sighed. If her cousin wasn't the Duchess of York … Her daughter interrupted her thoughts.

"If she sends me to the tower, will she boil me in hot water as papa's former stable boy David said he would?"

"Of course not." Kate said firmly the knelt before her daughter and placed both hands on her cheeks. "You are my darling daughter and the daughter of the Earl of Sudeley and niece by marriage to the Queen herself, she will not dare cross you."

"She's always maintained that I am ugly."

"Mary, your cousin thinks everyone who is not a Seymour of Somerset is ugly, you know better than to listen to her. Just because she is a royal Duchess, doesn't make her any more than you. You know that." Her mother said, her voice firmer than before.

Mary lowered her gaze. "I know but she makes it sound like no one loves me."

"That's not true, everyone loves you. The Queen named you lady of the bedchamber, you are the youngest lady in her service. What other girl can boast that?"

"I guess …" She said, uncertain of her mama's words. "But," she looked up at Kate, "what if Margery makes another rude remark?"

"Then you come to me or your father and we will solve this."

Mary was about to say it would be no use but her father came in at that moment bearing a gift for her.

"Papa!" He ran to her and wrapped his arms around her. By God, she was so tall, he thought. She stood nearly as tall as Edward and he. He remarked so and Mary giggled saying it was thanks to her lady mother. She had changed her diet trading her sweets with fruits and vegetables and her fruit juices to water.

"Yes but even then you were very tall and now look at you, you will be like Goliath."

"Or as big as Empress Matilda."

Kate and Thomas laughed. The stories Meggie told their daughter, they thought.

"Come here little munchkin, let's get you to a horse."

Kate tried to protest but Thomas and Meggie were already making their way to the stables and Kate wasn't fast enough to outrun them.

* * *

Meggie knelt before her eldest son, her firstborn, Edward.

"Cousin" he said and cousin she was forced to call him back.

"How are your lessons? We haven't seen each other in quite a long time. How many years it's been?" She asked the little boy.

He held out two fingers.

"Two, yes. Two."

"Two." His sister, Ursula joined in.

"Ursy!" Her brother cried, circling his arms around her tiny waist. Not Mary's sister for sure, Meggie thought greeting the little girl. The little girl barely acknowledged her. She spread her arms for her true mother, Aunt Kate, when she came to pick her up.

"Mommy!" She cried, her brother followed however he chose to remain with Meggie.

Meggie smiled at her little boy. "Thank you." She said.

At his young age, he could not understand what she meant. _But someday he will and he will know everything I did was for his own good._

"Do you want to see my collection of bones?" The four year old asked.

"Bones? I thought your father stopped that old habit."

"He did but Ursy helps me collect them and Margery's wolf brings bones to me."

"Margery?" Her voice was filled with spite. Damn bastard.

Edward did not notice it and he went on. "Yes, she says I be special and I dragon bones."

"You have dragon bones." Meggie corrected.

Edward showed her a toothy smile. "Edward loves bones. He-he." He took from his pouch attached to his belt two bones. "See? Margery says they are from the old dragons, she says bones bring me magic. Me can make spells."

Eddie's words were lost as Meggie took the bones that her sister claimed were dragon bones and threw them.

"Cousin no! My magic bones!"

Meggie gripped his arms and said to him. "Listen to me Eddie, there are no dragon bones. No such thing as magic, no such thing as dragons. Your cousin Margery lied to you!" Just as she's been lying to everyone else. "There is no such thing as magic!"

"But cousin Margery said-"

"Your cousin is an idiot and so is everyone who likes her."

"But everyone-"

"But nothing!" Meggie released him. "Now go! Go and think about what you did before I tell your father." When he didn't move she yelled, "Go!"

Eddie ran to his chambers. Meggie fell to her knees and hid her face in her hands_. God and the saints damn her. Does she have no other purpose but make my life more miserable?_

Her children taken away from her. Her firstborn raised as her Aunt and Uncle's children and the only children she could claim as her own were being raised by others as well.

* * *

Margery screamed from the top of her lungs. She wasn't prepared for this pain. When it was over she asked her mother what it was.

Mary looked anxiously at the midwives, repeating what her daughter had just said.

"It's a girl, Your Graces." The midwife said.

Mary looked at her daughter, she was tired, beads of cold sweat dripped from her forehead. Just then she threw her head back and screamed again.

"What is it?" Mary demanded. Alarmed at the violent afterbirth her daughter was experiencing.

"It's not an afterbirth, Your Grace." The royal physician said. "She's having another child."

Mary's eyebrows shot up excitedly. Another child. That meant a son.

"Push Margery! Push." She urged her daughter.

Margery screamed. Her screams echoed through the walls of Hampton.

Everyone prayed the Duchess would bear a son. They received news from one of her ladies right after she'd given birth to her daughter.

"Is she well?" Ned asked, the first time ever since he was informed of his daughter's pregnancy, that he showed emotion for his youngest offspring.

"She is, Your Grace." Her lady-in-waiting told him.

"And the child?"

"Well as it can be expected. My lady, Her Grace Margery named her Johanna."

"Johanna?" Marcus asked. He knit his eyebrows. He wondered why his wife had named her that.

Hours later a shrill and what they thought to be a banshee's scream was heard from the birthing chamber, accompanied by a soft mewing of a babe.

A son, Marcus thought, thanking God and the Lord Christ for this blessing.

His joy however was cut short when his Aunt and mother-in-law emerged bearing the unfortunate news, "A daughter, nephew."

* * *

Marcus' face dropped when he heard the words _"A girl, nephew."_ How was he supposed to smile now? Nonetheless he did. After all her hard labor she had done what their grandfather's wives failed many times to do -give birth to healthy children.

He had to be content.

They named her Sybilla for his German relatives. Sybilla and Johanna Christina Wittelsbach Tudor were christened on the first of August, 1556.

Her parents stood as godparents with the Queen and her Consort, Liam Stark.

Margery received them in her privy chambers. Her mother and Aunt carried them. They were the only two surviving daughters of her grandfather's first marriage, and today they were here together acting as one, as godparents and grandparents to their children.

On this historic date, Margery thought grimly, two families united as one once again.

They gave her her daughters. She did not get to watch them after they were born. They were quickly snatched from her.

She didn't protest, she didn't retaliate, she didn't shout insults at her parents. These were royal children, even if they weren't they were nobles by birth, they didn't belong to her, they belonged to the state and crown. That is how these things are.

_Damn it._ She cursed herself. _All of Marcus' children are like him and they have no trace of me._ They would remember Marcus when they look at the mirror, they would know him first when they ask about their parents and receive the reply 'His Grace and wife, the Duke and Duchess of York.' It would always be him.

"They are beautiful, Your Grace." Her mother said. They were no longer on first name basis. She was her daughter, her favorite, that was true, but, she was also her Duchess, her better, and someday -she prayed and hoped- Queen of England.

"Thank you ... Your Grace." Mother. She was going to say but it would have been more painful -to the both of them- if she did.

* * *

After the ceremony her children were sent Ludlow. It was Prince Charlie's house by right of title, but since he had taken no wife and had no trueborn heirs, it was her daughters now.

"Have you heard the news?" Marcus asked her, ecstatic to tell her the news that the King of Spain had abdicated and passed his throne to his son, Philip. "As if that was not enough," he added, " the King of France has arranged a marriage between his daughter and Philip."

"Yes, I've heard." Margery said. Her father had told her over the weekend, the Privy Council was alarmed. With France and Spain united, this posed a Catholic threat to England.

"My mother says the King of France never smiles except for his mistress." He chuckled at the thought. Poor cousin Henri, he thought. He must really hate his wife if he's willing to let his mistress take precedence.

"He has another son besides Francis who is betrothed to Mary, Queen of Scots." He said, hoping she would catch on. She did but said nothing to make him think she did. So he continued, "Henri, I believe his name is. Mother thinks he will make a good husband for our little Sybilla."

He grinned in triumph at his good genius.

"What about Johanna? She is after all your firstborn and first in line to the throne after you and Charlie."

"Yes, until we can have son." He reminded, his voice gentle, but his eyes filled with meaning. "I proposed a German match."

_German?_ Why had her father not said anything about this?

"Germany is too far away,"

"So is France and in any case it is not our business but the Queen's, my mother. She will decide on what is better for the children."

The children, not mine, or ours, the children. Margery ordered more wine and drank from her goblet. It was encrusted with rubies, sapphires, and other precious gemstones. Like her blue velvet gown, the very best for the royal Duchess. Her bum rolls were encrusted with pearls as her hair, trapped in a golden snood with powdered gold on her auburn hair giving it the impression it was pure fire. Her hair ornaments were the same, gold, pearls, and rubies. All the very best.

"Don't you think so? Sweetheart?"

Margery snapped her head up at the sound of his voice. She smiled graciously at him and said "Yes, yes I do darling" then returned her attention to her plate which was still full.

"Worry not Margery, our daughters are in capable hands. Leave this matter to us." Marcus said.


	8. Chapter 8

**1558**

**From Hampton to Hever**

"Marcus." She called waving her hands hoping he would see her.

The Queen had taken her leave from the Privy Council. Most of her ladies had taken leave as well, only a select few stayed.

"Do not wave, it's rude." Eleanor, one of the other ladies, scolded.

"Mary, my little cousin, not so little anymore."

"Do not speak to her as if she is an idiot." His mother chided coming from her privy chambers, "Mary you can take the rest of the day if that's what you like, Eleanor you stay."

"Thank you, Your Majesty, I'd like that very much."

"It's settled then."

They left, commenting on Eleanor's scowl. They could hear her complaints even as they reached his chambers. "I don't understand why mother keeps up with her. Must be because she was her favorite's sister's favorite daughter."

"Must be. She is not that bad though on you get to know her."

He raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Not that bad? I remember when we were children, you used to run our fields with cousin Margaret, and she was always there howling how we were not proper."

"Don't forget about Margery," She said, "They were together all the time."

"Yes I remember, even for your size you could still outrun her. She can be difficult at times but once you get pass the sarcasm you get used to her."

Mary punched his shoulder playfully.

"You should be careful my lady not to anger your Prince."

"And here I thought I should be trembling." She teased. "Prince, lord, I don't care, they are all the same to me. My father says a man cannot call himself a lord unless he has a kingdom and money."

"I didn't know you were fond of riddles little Mary."

"Oh, it's not a riddle, it's a certainty." She said, flashing him a smile. Her eyes glinted in a way he had never seen before; he hadn't even seen her smile this way. She was always so proper, so frightened when she was with him.

Margery was present then but still –today was different.

"We should head back," He said realizing it was late. The sun was setting and even though his mother had given her leave, she would not look too kindly on their absence from the feast.

She nodded and gave a short-lived smile. He realized how much he loved to see her smile, to hear her laugh. As they entered they spotted Margery, they greeted. She had few ladies with her today, as his mother she did not see the need for most of them.

She did not greet Mary, she merely glanced at her and turned her back once she and Marcus entered the Great Hall.

* * *

Margery slept soundly that night. Her body ached. Marcus did not notice. He never did. He took her night after night, whispering in her ear, telling how much he loved her. She acted the fool for him, she learned to smile, to be quiet, to recite poetry when he wanted, to host feasts when he and his brother and mother were absent. She was the perfect wife and mistress –and to everyone the perfect Princess.

A Princess, who never laughed, danced or smiled without permission. A Princess of milk and honey like her late Aunt.

_"Now you know."_ Her sister's words echoed in her ears. Both of them. They had married for duty –and love. One for duty, the other for love. Or so she said.

Anne had taken for husband Henry Stanley, the fourth Earl of Derby._ "A woman's best weapon,"_ she'd said when she attended the wedding, _"is between her legs. Not that you would know, you were married so young and you've known no fuck except your charming Prince."_

Meggie had been cruder, she said that now she knew what it was like to be a woman, to bore children, to lie in bed every night and be ridden like a horse whenever your husband desired it.

Sleep would not come hard as she tried. She slipped from the covers, put on her nightgown and went to their outer chamber. There was a sette, she chose to sleep in it instead.

* * *

"Your Majesty." Margery greeted, she sat next to her.

"Ah, Margery, you are here little dove. What kept you? I hope my son didn't spoil you too much."

Margery said nothing.

"So quiet. I remember my first night -not that it should be something said in front of all these good women." She laughed, then paused and asked her servants to pour more wine. "But you and I are not good women anymore are we?"

"Your Majesty?"

"Do not play fool with me niece, I never took you for one. You are not happy with my son."

"No, Your Majesty." She said in earnest, so low that no one heard them but the Queen. Realizing her mistake, she said, "But I am sure I will be, given time-"

"Give time. Given time, you will be happy as your mother was with her first husband, as I was with mine. That's what they all say, very seldom it's true." She looked to her servant. "More wine and fill her cup as well."

"I am not thirsty, Aunt."

"So? I ordered wine not water and it is Your Majesty, you can call me whatever you like when we are in private, in here I am your Queen and your mistress."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"You learn fast. Not like your mother, Mary can boast all she wants. She says she was a good daughter and she was. To our mother at least. To our father that was a different matter. She paled and sulked and if I remember correctly before the wine clouds my senses," she smirked and gave a cold laugh, "she always knew how to make him angry."

"Mother says it was you."

"So she did. But it was your mother who always angered our father. Too much like Katherine, he said, too much like her Spanish ancestors. He didn't want another copy of her mingling in his life, pestering him about everything he did so he married her off. He could have waited her to rot, spend the rest of her days sewing and become an unhappy spinster, but he did not and you know why?" Margery opened her mouth to speak but the Queen did not let her. "Of course you don't. Because he didn't want her to turn like my mother that's why. If one was meant to, it was your mother. She was always so proper, so lady-like, not even your Aunt Maggie was like that. But you, you are just like her, except you are not fooled by chivalric and romantic notions of marriage." She smirked. "I had a happy marriage in case you are wondering with all of my past husbands, the first was accidental duty but I loved him. He had his whores but I had his heart and that was worth more to me than anything, Philip, the same. You may never love my son and he may never love you but you will love your children. On that front a mother has no choice." She emptied her goblet for the third time and ordered more.

Margery had never seen her Aunt drink this much. She must be worried. But about what? Could it be France and Spain had formed a coalition with the Pope? She doubted it. Rome still remembered what Charles V did when his German mercenaries sacked the holy city. Old grudges died hard.

"Listen to me on this because you will find no better advice."

"Marcus does love me."

"Does he? In what way, little dove? Does he call out your name, ride you like an expert horseman?" She chuckled when she remained silent, her rose lips primed, tight shut. "I thought not. My boy Charlie has always been difficult, but he knows what he wants and he takes it. Marcus on the other hand –he's always been harder."

"He doesn't know what he wants, Your Majesty?" She asked, staring right into her Aunt's eyes, hoping to read her, see inside her soul, but she couldn't.

"You should know, you share his bed every night. Marcus has never told me anything, except when he begged me to keep my vow and let him marry you. Does that surprise you? It should, the Privy Council was against it but my son begged me with those puppy eye dogs of his."

Margery was speechless, she did not know Marcus wanted her that badly.

"I told him a French marriage would be better to get rid of the Spanish cunt and turn the French against him and give us Mary Stewart but he would not have it. More wine!" She nearly hit her servant when he told her there was no more. "Bring more then!" She turned to Margery. "I always took you for a good courtier, not a Princess but it seems you've proven me wrong on all points. The Court loves you, Marcus loves, in his own way but he loves you. Not for long though." She added with a smirk.

"His Highness does loves me, Your Majesty."

"Why don't you call him Marcus then?"

Margery looked down.

The Queen's smirk widened. "He loves your lineage and what you bring to him, you are a commodity to him, you make him look good." She explained. She put her goblet down. "Tell me, what would you do in the unfortunate event he takes a mistress? What will you do then?"

"I would do my duty. It is not my place to judge, it is God's-"

She was cut by the Queen's laughter. "God's will not to judge. God has no mercy on fools, my father told me that when he found me crying after my younger sister was born. I had prayed for a boy so he would love my mother again, much good it did me."

"My lord grandfather believed in God, he was called -"

"Defender of the faith, protector of England, keeper of the peace, and God knows what more titles. You speak like a true courtier just as your mother before you and our mother before us except you are not as good a liar as she was. You lack the talent to lie and smile even to the person you hate the most. I suggest you start learning if you become Queen one day."

"Did you learn that in Austria, Your Majesty?"

"I did. Many times I would speak my mind and many times my husband would tell me to shut up, think first, act later." She turned to the harpist who'd just came in. "At last." She turned to her daughter-in-law. "Sing a song for us Margery, bless us with your voice. We've heard countless tales of what a charming voice you have."

Margery did as she was told. She rose from her chair and began to sing. Everyone listened attentively, entranced by her voice. They praised her and clapped afterwards when she was done.

She retired from the Queen's presence and went to her chambers. She found Marcus entertaining Mary and her cousin John with a demonstration of sword-play. Mary applauded him said there was no one more bold and brave that could compare to him.

She cleared her throat. "My lady." Marcus took her hands and guided her to where her cousins sat. "I was having an interesting conversation with your cousins. John here tells me his father is entering him in the lists for next year tourney."

"It will be my chance to be a gallant knight as Your Highness and give my favors to a fair lady of my choosing."

"Not too fair I hope." Marcus said, his hands coming to her waist, pulling her close. "I don't want anyone outranking my lady."

"I hardly think anyone will." John Seymour said, "There is no girl in England who can."

"On that you are right John, no lady is more beautiful than my lady."

"Now who is flattering?" Margery said, smiling openly.

Mary's face fell. Margery noted and turned to Marcus and gave him a soft kiss.

"Consider yourself lucky cousin, you have a man who loves and is faithful to you. Maybe someday my sister can boast the same." John said, rising with his sister.

"Gone so soon? You still owe me a game of chess."

"It will be another day, farewell for now Your Highness and cousin, may the good Lord smile on you."

As soon as the door was closed, Margery dismissed all their servants and turned back to kiss him.

"What has gotten into you?"

"Nothing, I just don't want anyone to interrupt us when we are together."

Marcus knit his eyebrows.

"You don't mind, do you?"

"No, of course, not at all." He said kissing her in return.

* * *

"Sister, how good of you to join us." Her brother said.

The reception in Kent had been a colder one than in the North where they had been as part of the Queen's entourage to calm the northern lords.

"The pleasure is mine, brother." They embraced each other then he motioned to his wife who gave them a warm welcome.

_She must be rich, no doubt_. She had nothing else to recommend her. She was a small thing, not strong, or good looking like her sister Anne yet Arthur loved her. It showed in the way he looked at her and spoke to her.

Or, perhaps they are better liars_,_ she the Queen was right. She did not know nothing at all.

"Your Majesty, dearest Aunt, you look more wonderful every day."

"And here I thought that all Boleyns were sharp tongued and no wits but you do seem to have some." The Queen said, greeting her nephew and his wife. "Where are the children nephew? You wrote extensively about them."

"They are resting. We didn't think you'd come at this hour." Arthur said leading them to their chambers. "Amy was surprised when she found out you were coming, though she was eager to meet you sister. It pains me that I haven't received a single letter from you."

"I have been busy as you know. Regal duties." She said casually trying to avoid his glance. She never forgot about that day when he and his sister tried to drown her in the fountain. God and her mother might've forgiven them but not she. She never forgot.

Arthur chuckled. He showed Marcus and the Queen their respective chambers. The Queen's was larger than theirs, but she didn't mind. One day her father's dream would come true and she would be Queen, and she would be shown the same love and respect her subjects showed Isabella.

"Good night sister, Your Grace." He said to them, then turned but as if he forgot something he turned back and said to Margery in a mocking smile only she could see. "I am sure you will want to meet your nephews, dear sister. Two strapping boys, me and Amy could not have asked for more."

"We would be delighted, my lord." She said coldly, speaking for both, to Arthur.

After he left, she gave a sigh of relief. She thanked Marcus had not heard –he was too busy getting undressed- or else she would have been forced to confess how much she loathed her brother and loathed his wife for giving him what she couldn't give to Marcus.

Another year and no son in the Tudor cradle. Yet Marcus still loved her, or so he said but she could see right through him. He loved the way she spoke, the way she danced, the way she sang, the way she bemused everyone at court. He loved her because her talents and beauty together made the perfect Princess, and everyone who loved her, loved him.

"Why is it you ladies always have to wear so many clothes?" He asked starting to undo the laces at the back of her dress until she was only in her chemise. She lay on the bed with her back against the mattress, "I've waited all day for this."

And the day before that and before that, she thought sourly, willing herself to open her eyes when he came.


	9. Chapter 9

**I leave you with a long chapter. Got my diploma yesterday, I am officially a BA of Arts and History.  
**

* * *

**1558-1559**

**Liar's Court: Hampton to Nonsuch  
**

"You are with child again?" Marcus asked, she nodded, her eyes cast down as she always did when she was in his presence. She only raised them when their parents were present, especially her father and the Queen, because she didn't want them thinking she was weak. She had enough of that with Arthur and Anne.

He kissed her mouth and circled his arms around her shoulders, as she spread her legs and he entered her he whispered in her ear, "You've made me the most happy."

She willed herself to smile. How many women had he spoken to? How many women had heard the same thing?

_"We are women, dear,"_ –her mother would say if she heard her minds complaints. –_"We do not choose our destines, it chooses for us,"_ and go on to give one of her long sermons how _–"you should make the most of what you have."_

She never felt more alone.

* * *

The birth came faster than she expected. Seven months. Everyone was worried she would miscarry but she didn't, but much good it brought her, she thought grimly. Another girl, and after that another girl.

Only girls, she thought sadly. In three after her elder daughters were born, she'd given birth to girls, twins once more, and all girls. Marcus did not fault her, the blame lay on nature and since they could not blame on nature because that would have been a sin to God, they chose to wait instead and promise each other another year.

Another year, another night, another day. It made no difference.

* * *

The Queen called her to her privy chambers. She straightened her back and bent, giving the perfect curtsy. "You are perfect aren't you?" Margery opened her mouth to speak but the Queen stole the words right out of her mouth. "That's pure perfection right there. You might give a lesson or two to my new hens."

"They are your ladies Your Majesty."

"So?"

"You cannot speak of them in that manner."

"Why because they are perfect peacocks like you? No little dove you see these women are good for only one thing." She lowered her voice as Margery took her seat in an empty armchair next to the Queen. "These hens my dear niece will return to their cocks to say how much this great Queen was an inspiration to them in these perilous times–" Seeing Margery's eyebrows knitted, she smiled. Not a good smile, but a devious smile. Margery felt a chill run down her spine as the Queen spoke to her in a cold tone. "You don't know, do you? No, I do not expect you to. Your mother always sheltered you from everything, she showed you the cruelties of men and yet she didn't teach you a single thing about the world. Don't look at me that way little dove, I am not saying this to make you feel bad." She motioned to one of her ladies of the bedchamber, not surprisingly the one she favored a lot, Mary Seymour, to come forward.

"Mary, what would you do if you were a Queen, in the position I am now in, about to fight a war?"

Margery's head snapped up. Nobody told her about a war. Why had she not been told? Her heart beat faster as Mary answered, "A perfect answer" –the Queen said and told her to return to her seat.

_That smile of hers._ She thought and remembered what her father had told her the night after her consummation. _Do not let others usurp your position._

Mary was always smiling and for the first time she felt confident to look at her directly in the eye, and let her smile reach her eyes as Margery did not smile back.

"Makes you jealous doesn't it?" The Queen whispered in her ear after she dismissed her ladies.

"No, it does not. You said so yourself, duty above the heart."

She chortled. "When did I say that little dove? Duty first yes, but one cannot deny the heart pleasure."

"I am-"

"Learn to be quiet when the Queen is speaking." Her Aunt snapped.

Margery closed her mouth, looking hard at her Aunt; her dark grey eyes pierced her dark blue ones.

"You have spirit, you know when to speak and when to hold your tongue but you still have a lot to learn." The Queen went on to say, and seeing the way Margery looked at her, so defiant and filed with resentment, made the Queen draw a genuine smile. "You will have to be smarter than the others when you come into my position, and silent as a knife, just as you are now. You know we may come in direct conflict with France and Spain, don't you?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. The Queen of Scots is not yet dead and her husband is alive as well." She said. The union between France and Scotland was a dangerous thing. It meant France now had enough resources with Philip of Spain married to one of the King's daughters, to attack.

"So they are. Your father has been talking to you hasn't he? Don't be afraid you can trust me."

She could not, but she confessed to her nonetheless.

"Did he tell you we plotted to kill them or was that a lucky guess?"

"I do not believe in luck, one makes his or her own way in the world, I learn through what I see and my common sense … _Aunt._"

Bella's smile widened and she poured herself wine in her goblet. "Little Margery, not so little anymore. My son has underestimated you. Cheers." She passed her the goblet she filled up. She took another and filled it up. "Drink, this is your moment of triumph."

"Why?" _Because I've given your son daughters and nothing but daughters and will likely give him only that until the end of time and everyone will hate me as they hated my grandmother before me?_ She decided to speak these thoughts aloud instead of being quiet.

"So the truth surfaces and you think I am out to eat you?" She chuckled. "Margery, Margery, Margery, dear Margery … that is the last thing I want." Her smile vanished. "If I wanted to scare you little dove I would have kept my ladies around me. It serves no purpose to frighten someone when no one is looking." She explained.

"Then why ask them to leave us? What is so important you need to speak to me alone _Aunt_?"

"You have a strong voice, you know that? You need to bring that more often, especially with your husband. Have you seen how he looks at your cousin? She will be in his bed in no time."

"And you've done nothing to stop it." Margery said, her bile rising.

"And why should I? Tell me, if you were to see your son becoming disenchanted with his cold wife, would you not encourage a little diversion?"

"But he could be the future King, behavior like that is-"

"What? Unseemly? Do not make me laugh. We are women dear, we sit here and let our husbands fuck whoever they want and take it all in because that's what we are expect to do." She took another drink from her goblet. "And in the scheme of things it doesn't matter. What matters is what we bring to them." Bella said sternly. "However," she added "in the case there was someone, a special someone who thinks herself above you then she becomes a problem. Especially when you don't have a son in the Tudor cradle."

There was a long silence. She spoke at last. "Marcus will never betray me …" She paused and added through gritted teeth. "He would not dare."

"He will my dear, he will. You are beautiful but a cold beauty, while pliant, perfect, quiet little thin Mary is sweet and everything you are not."

"What do you suggest I do?"

"When Spain and France are at our doors, they will want every Tudor to bend the knee. We will never do such thing and they know, so we will be hunted down and slaughtered as if we were common criminals." The Queen looked to her right at the window where her youngest daughter was with her ladies, playing a game of hide and seek with Meggie's children and Margery's. "I will only say this once. Never forgive, never forget, but don't be brash. I didn't put Mary where she is now because I adore her. On the contrary, I placed her among my ladies so I can keep a better eye on her." She shifted her eyes to Margery. "If she becomes your husband's mistress, she will speak for him. I know my son, he is not stupid. He will never leave you, you have a finer lineage, but should she give him children, unless you have a son, the people will adore those children more than you and she will be his wife in all but name."

"I can't squash her." Margery said, not realizing she was squeezing her fists.

"Of course you can't and you will try no such thing. When I found out about Charlie's father first mistress, I was enraged. I wanted to grab her, shake her, and submit her to the worst tortures. I was never a lady you see like your mother and our late sister. I did not care one bit on what was proper but I learned in time that if I wanted to keep my position I had to make an effort and act as you act now. I broke the rules occasionally. You can as well but don't make a habit of it." She realized her cup was empty and she filled it up again. She smirked. "I suppose you know by now I am not overtly fond of your little cousin."

This caused both women to laugh.

"Always sulking, always smiling. _Let's pray for God to have mercy on all our souls._ Dear God, can there be anyone more pathetic? What on earth is Lady Sudeley teaching the girl? "

"To be honest Aunt, she has been teaching her nothing but the bible, she knows it like the palm of her hand." She scowled. "She thinks herself so godly. When we were children she always accused me of tormenting her."

"And didn't you?"

Margery could barely conceal her smile.

"Me and my sister, your mother, always fought. She speaks so highly of me now because I am Queen but it was not always so. When we were children she would call Margaret 'brother Wales' because she thought she was the boy that would save our mother, when I corrected her she got mad and accused me of hitting her."

"I never hit Mary."

"No but you did other things. You called her names, you mocked her, humiliated. I never called my sister names, never liked that habit, but she did when she was old enough to know that our mother preferred her."

"Did you still hit her?"

"Of course. It would not be fun if I did not. Yet she always cried and complained, but I only needed to show our father my face and he would take my side. Your cousin is a lot like your mother except she doesn't whine in public. She wins everyone with a smile."

"I know but I've gained more love and admiration than her." Margery said. Her voice took a proud intonation. "Nobody goes more to Churches, Anglican and Catholic than I do. Nobody gives more than me."

"And it is duly noted." The Queen commented. The dirty urchins loved Margery more than her own daughters. They called her the good Duke's daughter when she was just Lady Margery, since she became Princess Margery and Duchess of York and Bavaria, and Countess Palatine, they called her 'gracious Margery' since she stopped at every hospital and orphanage to meet the wretches there and assure them God loved them and that the Queen was doing everything she could to keep them safe.

Bella always thought it a waste of time. Her mother had been liked, she had also bought the people's loyalty with her charity, Anne had tried as well, and where had that got her? Yet Margery's actions transformed her into a Saint and her image helped the Tudor monarchy.

"But if she sleeps with Marcus, how long before he gives her those ideas you have little dove and to make her into what you are?"

"She will not usurp my position, I will not let her."

"You will because you have no choice."

"But you said-" Margery's voice was raised but her Aunt did not let her finish that sentence. She cut her up abruptly,

"I said you had to be one step ahead of the curve not that you could prevent your husband from fucking her. If you want to beat her at her own game, you must prove yourself better than her, not just in the dirty urchins' eyes but in the eyes of my courtiers' as well."

"They love me."

"For now. They will love Mary soon, these people love whoever the Prince loves and if Marcus turns his eye to her, they will love her and you will be as the Queen in France, another forgotten little consort, forced to live in the shadows while she takes everything you love."

Margery looked down at her hands. Another long silence reigned.

"You should leave. I don't talk with someone, even my direct family this long. Go before they suspect and tell your father I bless his eldest son's union –"

"With Jane Grey, Your Majesty?" Margery finished for her.

"Yes, little dove. Remember what I said."

Margery promised she would. She curtsied to the Queen and left.

She slept better that night knowing that she, though an unlikely ally, in her Aunt. And also, that she finally realized she was a Seymour and Seymours took what they wanted, no matter what the means.

* * *

Mary joined Marianne playing with her nieces and nephew.

"Aunt Mary! Aunt Mary!" They screamed wrapping their arms around her when she knelt down. Margery's children were nothing like her and for that she was grateful.

Johanna and Sybilla adored their Aunt more than their mother and saw Meggie as a second mother. She was beautiful, she had blond ringlets that often escaped from her simple snood, yet no one said anything to her because she was a Duchess and the two Princes loved her. Some said, the Prince of Wales still loved her and the Duke of York thought her presence to be a soothing one.

"Where have you been?" Sybilla said. Her twin sister asked the same question. They asked, said, and completed sentences. Marianne said to Mary she found it annoying but not Mary. She found it delightful and it was easy to love them when they looked so much like Marcus. Dark auburn haired, dark blue eyes, and fair skin.

They also have nothing of Margery's foul temper. Her cousin had become more impossible as Marcus sought her presence more and more. It became harder to dissimulate there was nothing between them. In truth, there wasn't, but Mary wanted it to be and it was probably this that Margery saw, that made her more hostile towards Mary.

"I have been in your lady grandmother, Her Majesty's service, and before that I was out hunting with your papa." She said. An innocent lie, she hated hunts. She knew how to shoot but she thought the sport too wild and unfit for a lady of her station. Yet, it made both girls giggle.

After their father and the Earl of Surrey arrived, she said goodbye to the both of them and promised to visit them soon and her baby sisters, then went to say greet her cousin-in-law, the Earl of Surrey, and say goodbye to him, Meggie, and the children.

As she got to her apartments she found her father waiting for her. He bore a serious expression. "Father. Where is mother, John, and Geoffrey? I thought they'd be back for supper."

"I told them to leave and enjoy the fette."

"Why?"

"Because you and I need to talk." Tom said and motioned to the empty chair next to him.

* * *

"Why do you think the Queen told you to keep Marcus in your hold? How happy are you in your marriage Margery that you can bring Marcus back into your fold?" Nor, her cousin Eleanor, asked her.

"If you were in my position you would do the same."

"If I were in your position I would be holding the knife against her neck, not wait until she does."

Margery scoffed. "This is Mary we are talking to."

"It doesn't matter. And she's not a fat little girl anymore, she's bloomed and very soon your husband will be in her bed and you will be cast out from court, forget their sympathies, forget the Queen's advice, like a leper."

"T-the Queen would never-" Her lips quivered, she stuttered.

"The Queen does whatever is convenient to her. She acts the part better than you do because she's been in every court in Europe. She knows what it's like to hold one's life in the balance and we are all her puppets, just as you are your father's."

Margery glanced sharply at her.

"Your father sold you to the highest bidder because he thought you'd be smarter. 'I am not saying this to hurt you' –that's exactly why the Queen said it, because she wants to hurt you Margery. She wants to see you bleed."

"But why? There is no one at Court that doesn't lov-"

"Wake up Margery and look around you." Nor hissed in frustration, pointing to all the courtiers present. "You haven't been at Court except to dance and perform in fettes but this is a dangerous place, filled with liars and murderers and all of us better than you." Nor told her. "You've played your part well, you've fallen into the fold of the perfect wife, the perfect Princess, you've emulated all of the virtues our grandmother once emulated that made the commons give her the title of the 'Queen of Hearts', but it's more than hearts you need to survive in this place. My grand Aunt earned the name of 'Queen of Spades'; Anne Boleyn was just as smart as Katherine of Aragon but nobody liked her, not even her own family, yet the King put up with her because she promised to deliver him a son and when she finally couldn't he cut her head off. Just like that." She snapped her fingers. "In the blink of an eye his love for my lady Aunt turned into hatred and a day after her beheading he offered his hand in marriage to your late Aunt."

"What are you saying?" Margery asked, although she already knew the answer.

"Exactly what you heard me say. You want to survive? You want to be better than us? Listen to no one but yourself and trust _no one_. It's not just the common people you need but the courtiers as well; soon they will see through your mask, that you are no danger to them at all, but if you make yourself into someone to be feared as well, they will both love and respect you." She asked Margery to link her arm around hers. She did, and as they passed the courtiers who nodded and bowed their heads at them, they smiled.

Nor turned back to her, "You want to make these people fear and respect you? You have to earn it, as for Marcus –that is difficult. Her mother herself hardly knows him, he is not an open book like Charlie, you'd have an easier time married to him but your father wanted Marcus. I guess he didn't want to give your sister another reason to hate you. Their feelings for each other are well known."

"Meggie would never act on them. She spends half her time reminding me what a sorry Princess I am and that I look more like a pig farmer every time I am big with child, than a Princess."

"Meggie is jealous. Just look at her, she's gotten plumper with every child she's born."

It was true. Margery momentarily glanced at her older sister. She had gotten bigger, and every year it was another child or another miscarriage –the latter which she blamed her.

"You have it all, looks, beauty, and although you don't love him, you can still have Marcus. You just have to know how. Moan, scream, do whatever you need to do, to make yourself irresistible."

"Marcus." She snorted, "There is nothing of me that he wants, he made himself clear last time we were together after I scolded him for looking at that piglet." They had almost kissed. Margery scowled as the memory.

"Do it." Nor pressed. "The Queen is pitting you against each other. She wants to see if her investment paid off, if she chose the right Seymour girl to be her son's Queen."

Nor's words left a sour taste on her mouth but it made her think about things for the first time since she married Marcus.

* * *

Mary could not believe her father's words. He had no right. He had been with every woman in England before he met her mother. "You have no right, this is my life and Marcus loves me-"

"Marcus loves anything with tits and legs. He's a man and just like any man who's young and bored with his wife, he'll look to anyone who can give him release from his unhappy state."

"Then why are you telling me this now, why not before?" She asked, defiant, crossing her arms against her chest.

"Because I didn't think it would go this far." Thomas cried, hating when his daughter became defiant. She was so much like him in that respect it was scary. Kate always said she was like her in every aspect except her physical, but she was wrong. "He had his first woman a day before his twelfth birthday, this is not some green boy. He is not looking for love. You are young and beautiful and inexperienced, men like him like that."

"Marcus is not like most men. He said so to me, if he could he would make me his wife."

"But he can't and even if he wanted, his mother won't let him."

"Mary, think this through."

"I've thought it through." Mary said, staring right into her father's sapphire eyes, eyes she shared, with the same intensity. "And I've made my choice."

Mary was exactly like him and just like him she loved a challenge. He wondered if Marcus had already bedded her but seeing her now with that innocent face, the same face every curious virgin had, he knew it was not so. He sighed in relief.

Seeing her father so distressed she sat on his lap -like she used to when she was a child- and twined her arms around his neck and rested her head at the crook of his shoulder. "You don't have to worry about me papa. I am your daughter, I can take care of myself. And I love him, I would love him in any way he wants me to, even if it means becoming his mistress."

"I know you can and you are, which makes me more worried." Thomas said kissing her forehead. He run his fingers through her long dark curly hair which cascaded down her back.

She was so beautiful and every man with an eye for beauty like Marcus who was married to an equally beautiful wife, would not hesitate in claiming her for his own. He remembered a time when he was like Marcus. Unlike him, he did not have to marry the first auburn wench he bedded. He was a commoner's son and although part noble, part royal through his mother, he did not have to worry about responsibilities. He could do whatever he wanted.

"You do not have to." She repeated. "I promise I will be careful."

Thomas sighed. He knew she would but Margery was another matter. He had hated her with every fiber of his being because she reminded him of what he and his family went through with Meggie, what that child had to go through, everything she could have that was denied to her -and given to Margery. Everything that should have been hers by right since Meggie was Ned's oldest child. But acknowledging her would place the stain of bastardry and ruin his other children's reputations, including his own.

And yet in the midst of all his hatred he forgot that she was a Seymour, a tool just as Meggie, and a mean to an end for her family's ambition. It was after her last children that he saw in her eyes the true sadness she bore, regret, anger, and even hatred at herself for not speaking up on her marriage as her older sisters had done.

"Just be mindful of your surroundings and think on what your mother would say." Was all that was left to say to her. Kate would not approve, prude as she was, but Mary was old enough to make her own decisions, she was not a fool like Margery, and more importantly, she was a Seymour. She took what she wanted just like all the members in their family. As his thoughts returned to his family, they turned to Margery and the sad eyes he remembered, the false smile, the false expressions and he couldn't help but feel pity for the girl he once hated.


	10. Chapter 10

**1559**

Marcus watched from the window his wife and cousin playing with their oldest daughter. They barely acknowledged her, they preferred to be held by their Aunt, Mary Seymour.

Their cousin Eleanor Howard whispered something to Margery that made her sadness dissolve. Marcus could only guess what she said. Probably something pertaining to how evil I am. Marcus shook his head mentally. He did not understand his wife, he thought him cold and distant, when in reality it was the contrary. She was the one who was cold and distant and hardly saying a word except when they were in public.

What had happened to her -He wondered- that sweet, charming girl? He shook his head, this time for real.

He let his beard grow and that made her furious. They fought more often than not, and most of the time for ridiculous things. Margery ascertained that it was all because of Mary's influence on him. He blamed her for everything. And while he couldn't deny she played a part in some of his decisions, she couldn't blame her cousin for everything.

Marcus listened to Mary because he loved her. Mary had a calm demeanor that Margery did not possess, and she had a genuine smile, not fake as his wife's. There were times he wished he would take her and claim her as his own as he did with many others, but he was not Charlie. He would not take a woman against her will. If and when he took her it would be because she willed it.

Marcus turned away from the window and sat down.

Mary came at that moment.

"Your Grace." Mary inclined her head. She didn't have to kneel like the rest.

"You don't have to kneel, Mary."

"But I must. Your other subjects would suspect me if I don't."

"I don't care about them." He said, dismissing his servants so he could kiss her.

Margery arrived at that moment and cried foul things at her. She threw whatever she could at her. "You witch, you devilish fiend, I would hung you if you weren't my kin!"

"Enough, woman enough!"

"Don't you dare speak to me. You were consorting with this she devil!"

"I would guard my tongue Madame if I were you." He took a step forward.

Margery laughed in his face. "You love her don't you? That's why you took so much care. Well my husband if you love her so much why don't you take her now-"

"Do not be ridiculous-"

"I mean it, take her now in front of me so the whole world will know how perfectly chaste this she devil is!" She pushed Marcus away and went to Mary. She slapped the poor girl and brought her to her knees.

"Stop crying you fool. You just couldn't wait, could you? Just like your mama, you have to be the best at everything. 'Look at me, I am Mary Seymour, I am chaste.' You are perfect aren't you? You fat little piglet-"

"Margery enough!" Marcus cried and gripped her arm, violently turning her to face him. "If you touch one more hair of my lady's body, I swear to God and all your mother's saints I will strike you down myself."

"Do it then. Please Marcus do it. Show everyone your true face."

"The only person I have to show my true face is Mary and perhaps you if you were not too blinded by your rage to see it."

Margery looked from Mary to Marcus. She felt a deep pain pierce her abdomen. Not now, she thought in alarm. She resisted the pain and spoke. "I have given you everything Marcus, four girls, four perfectly healthy girls and what have you given me in return but this … this bitch of yours!"

"You have given me nothing but your indifference and your foul temper. All those long hours you spend going to churches and hospitals you could spend it with me instead."

"I do my duty-"

"To who? The common folk or me, your lord and husband?"

"You are not my lord, you do not command me. I do the work that every good wife is supposed to do. I've earned you the respect of the court. I've given you prestige with the birth of our daughters. I've given you everything!"

"No, the only thing you've given me is a father-in-law who doesn't stop pestering me about my royal duty and a mother who constantly reminds me of my failure to bring a son into the royal cradle."

"We have daughters and your mother is a Queen-"

"That is not good enough!" Marcus cried, hearing Mary sob, he went to her side and wrapped his arms around her.

She was tall but her demeanor was pliant, a true Queen of hearts, in contrast with Margery who was all hatred and coldness.

Realizing she was defeated, she turned from them and left the room.

* * *

When she reached her parents' chambers, she began crying. She thanked God her parents weren't present.

Mundi, her older brother and father's heir found her on their bed. He was surprised to find her like this. His wife, Jane Seymour nee Grey, was by his side. It was well known they didn't like each other but seeing Margery in her poor state, the former nine day Queen could not help but feel pity for her.

"Margery?" Mundi asked sitting next to her on the bed. Jane sat on the opposite end.

Margery's face came from her knees. "He hates me Mundi. He hates me."

"Who?"

"Marcus, who else?" She yelled in frustration. She stained his leather doublet with her tears.

Edmund asked her what happened. She told him everything.

"Worst part is he doesn't know and I don't feel it anymore."

"It's too early for you to feel any movement, you don't have to worry. I am certain the child is fine-"But she shook her head vigorously.

"It's not." She said. "I can feel it. It's no longer inside me and it's all Marcus' fault."

"Oh Margery, you must not give yourself anymore reason to be upset." Mundi said in a soothing voice. "Marcus is what he is. You know, it was whispered his father was the same before he met our Aunt. You just need to be patient with him."

"But I can't, I can't Mundi. My father needs me to have a son now. And Marcus hates me. He said he hates my father." More tears ran down her cheeks. "I've tried very hard to give him what he wants, to be the wife he wants me to be but every time I try ... that pig shows up at our doorstep."

"Margery-"

"She is a pig Mundi! Don't tell me you are in love with her too?"

"Of course not. You know I only have eyes for you Margery but if you don't keep Marcus' attention on you he will seek pleasure elsewhere."

Margery nodded. She knew. "Father will be angry, won't he, when he finds out?"

Marcus silence said it all. "Yes, I imagine he will." He said at last.

She smirked. "I have always been his favorite yet our older siblings have hated me for it."

"They are idiots. You'll do well not to listen to them-"

"But I do Mundi. Anne mocks me, she says I am like our lady grandmother, destined to have nothing but daughters. She knows about this child, I heard her talking to Lord Stanley the other day 'she will miscarry if it's a boy, then her husband will know how useless she is ' and that my marriage is cursed." She sobbed violently. After Mundi calmed down, she added. "My father made me a Princess and my husband a prisoner. I remember the first years of our marriage he would say that I was so beautiful, so proper, every man's dreams. That making me Princess was the best thing he did," she scoffed, "as if he did that himself"

Another tear trickled down her cheeks. "He loved me but I did not love him." She stared into her brother's eyes, her own wide as she suddenly realized the truth. "I do not love him. God knows I've tried, but I cannot."

She looked away. "He loved me and I turned his love into hatred, simply because I couldn't accept what God gave me." She said, echoing her mother's words.

"You gave Marcus everything, you can't fault yourself for him falling in love with someone that never was. Margery, look, marriages are made for money, alliances, and power. Marcus obviously loved you, but he only loved a shade of you. You gave him everything that was in your power to give him, four beautiful daughters, prestige, and the respect of his courtiers. That is more than any man can ask for."

"It's not enough. I must give Marcus a son."

"You will. All in good time. For now you must return –"

"No, I don't want to return." She cried and launched herself at him.

He looked to his wife who shrugged and whose eyes told him they had no choice.

"Please don't make me go back." She begged. She feared if she went back she would rip that pig in two. Fat, ugly bitch, stealing what is mine. She always knew Mary would be her death, but she never thought that Marcus, him of all people that all women fawned over, would fixate his eyes on her.

"I won't, you can stay here. Mother and father are going to visit our grandmother this weekend, so you can stay here for the duration of their visit."

He pulled away from her and took out his handkerchief. "I know things seem difficult now but you are still young, you will have plenty of time to give Marcus a son." She nodded. Marcus cupped her face with his hand. "Now cease those tears, and come and join me and my wife and our brother Neddie for supper.

He didn't tell her the true reason why their parents traveled to Wolf Hall, it would only upset her and she was already convinced she lost the child.

They ate heartedly, enjoying Neddie's crude sense of humor, even Jane found it funny.

* * *

At Wolf Hall, Mary and Ned gave the good news to Lady Seymour. Her mouth nearly dropped the floor.

"God's mercy. This is a miracle. Your Grace, my daughter, Ned … we must give thanks. The Virgin Mary has granted you this miracle."

"Please Lady Seymour you flatter us, but you are right we must give thanks. God has truly given us a miracle." Mary said.

Her mother-in-law walked them to the parlor that had been refurnished. "Please sit, you must be tired from such a long journey. Edward you should take care better of your wife. She should not travel in these conditions."

"I know mother but Mary can be very persuasive." Ned grinned, his eyes glinting mischievously as he glanced to his wife, whose cheeks flushed a deep red. Even after all these years, he could still make her heart beat faster.

* * *

Mary wiped tears from her eyes. "She will be back." She said sadly. She knew she would. Yet Marcus did not show he cared.

He surprised her closing the doors and locking them from the inside then went to her and cupping her face with his hands, he leaned forward and kissed her.

"Marcus … no …" She breathed, but he gave her no chance to further protest.

"I want you. It has always been you. Grant me this night Mary, please do so for me." Mary tried to look away but she couldn't. Marcus' green eyes pierced hers and she found herself lost in them. "Do it and I swear to you I will be yours heart and soul as you will be mine."

Mary's lips curved upward.

She gave herself to him and let him take her.

He unlaced the back of her dress and she undid his breeches then he came up and as she buried her nails in his back, he passed his hands through her torso then thrust into her.

He silenced her screams of pleasure with a powerful kiss. After his last thrust, he withdrew from her and he kissed her again. They stayed in each other's arms until the following morning when one of his Aunt's ladies, Susan White, thinking his wife was with him, found them as they emerged from the bedchamber.


	11. Chapter 11

**1559-1560**

**Wayward flock: Hampton, Wolf Hall, and Greenwich**

Margery saw their faces in the wind, vanishing as other bodies replaced them. Marcus, Mary, then Mary, her father, then two people she had never met but seen in portraits, her royal grandparents, Edward IV and Elizabeth Wydeville.

Margery woke up, drenched in cold sweat, her belly ached. A hand went to her stomach, her wolf, Orion, was howling. Marcus was nowhere to be seen.

He is with that pig. She thought. Her wolf's howls increased and soon everyone was awake.

"What is that bloody thing mewing about?" Marcus asked when he barged into their bedchamber. His eyes immediately went wide at the sight of blood.

"Margery," his voice died down and a hand went to his mouth. He had been in the battlefield. His mother had sent him in undercover missions to see the carnage, to see what it meant to take one's life, to see bodies pile on one another and what it meant to be a King, a leader and soldier. But none of that could have prepared him for this.

"Marcus?" Margery asked, knitting her eyebrows, puzzled by his expression. "Ah!"  
She gripped her midsection. _Not yet, not yet_ –she told herself but the child did not listen to her.

In that moment her mother, with a hand at her own pregnant belly came, behind her followed Orion. Just how the wolf escaped, she could only guess. His golden wolf illuminated the dark room where only a candle was lit.

The wolf turned its head to Marcus bearing his teeth.

The smell of death was all around them.

"Margery …" Mary's voice died down, her eyes pointed to the foot of the bed where the blood dripped.

She looked down and was stunned by what she saw. _No, no, no!_

She looked up at her mother, looking for comfort, any reassurance that would help her solve this problem but she found none.

Mary went to her daughter's side and embraced. She kissed her auburn head and Margery could feel her mother's salty tears on her cheeks and neck. "Mama … why is there so much blood?" She asked, feeling nothing at the point but emptiness.

Nothing … her belly was empty. The child had deserted her just like his father and the only ones at her side were her mother and Orion whose teeth were still bare, looking murderously at Marcus whom he blamed for his mistress' loss.

* * *

In Wolf Hall Mary faced the most dangerous moment of any woman's life, the ordeal of childbirth … again.

Four months after her daughter's miscarriage, the Queen had given her leave. Her mother took special care of her, her father barely talked to her, she assumed it was too painful. She could see it in his eyes.

He had given her everything and she had given him nothing but an empty cradle, four girls and no boys. And the girls do not even look like her, Ned thought as he waited for his next child. They were not even close to their mother, not even to them. They preferred Marcus and his niece Mary over their grandparents. It had taken him a lot of self-containment to stop him from taking matters into his own hands; Mary prevented him. She knew as Margery did that if he did he would have arranged for Mary's death.

Thomas could barely show his face. He was sorry, but Ned knew better. Mary Seymour was his brother's sister, like him in every way and no one regretted it more than his wife, Katherine Seymour nee Parr who had been the first of them to apologize. Katherine had taught her daughter how to read, morals, devotion, everything and she had spat those lessons in her face when Marcus boasted of his mistress' pregnancy, shortly after Margery's miscarriage.

"Ah!" Margery held her mother's hand. Susan was next to her, opposite Margery, on her right side.

Ned was pacing back and forth. His wife was forty four. It was not unheard of. But for a woman her age who in her teen years had always been sickly, it could mean death.

He found himself praying in his chambers. They had not expected it would come so soon. She had not gone into confinement as it was customary, Mary refused. She wanted to be active, she wanted to take care of her children, especially Margery whose marriage had taken a drastic turn.

His wife had a large cross on the wall. She never gave up her faith. He admired her for it, but at times he thought it foolish. The world had changed and everyone changed with it, except Mary. She always crossed herself before they attended an Anglican service or entered a royal residence, or any residence for that matter.

"God," he prayed in English, the ways of his faith, the ways his wife had rejected. "deliver my lady from death, I shall give more to you and be shepherd to your flock if you do."

A scream broke his thoughts. His head snapped up. He raced to the birthing chamber where they didn't want to let him in. One cold glare was all he needed to convince the midwife wenches. He entered the room and found his wife writhing in pain, he pushed Margery aside and took his wife's hand.

"I am here sweeting." He whispered in her ear.

Lady Sudeley, her sister-in-law, was there at the front of the bed, waiting for the baby to come. She knew about herbs and therefore was more experienced than half the women present.  
"It is time." She said.

Mary was told to push by her sister-in-law and she did, and the babe came at last.

"What is it?" Mary asked after the violent after-birth. There were beads of cold sweat trickling down her forehead, she looked more like a man come from war than a new mother. Katherine thought.

Katherine and the midwives cleaned the babe then presented the child to his mother. "A son, Your Grace."

Mary's face lightened. Her stress disappeared as he touched his warm forehead. He smiled at his parents. Ned looked at him in amazement. He was a father again. Fifty four …

He was brought from his thoughts by his son's cries. "Hush," Ned said taking the child from his mother's arms and rocking him back and forth. He surprised everyone. –Hearing the good and strict Duke so welcoming to this new child.

What would the future hold for this little boy? She wondered as Ned thrust him back into her arms.

"What shall his name be?" Mary asked as she kissed his forehead. There were wisps of his hears in his tiny forehead. Gold, he was a baby of gold with fair features, Ned's spitting image except ... His eyes. They were dark grey as hers and the same shape, almond-shaped.

"Alfred." Ned declared passing a finger across his cheek. His son caught his finger and passed his tiny hands through it, as if he wanted to study the rough surface of his father's finger.

He let go and turned his attention to his mother, he nestled close to her breast seeking warmth.

Margery saw with envy as her mother cradled this little boy.

* * *

Everyone was giving birth except her. In a remote location, another lady was giving birth, only she did not have illustrious company her Aunt had but nonetheless, because of her status and her relation to the Queen's second son, she had the best doctors in England and they helped her deliver a healthy child. _Another son._

* * *

Margery looked away. _A son._ The pig had given him a son. The boy that should have been hers!

The Queen had excused herself from the ceremony claiming weariness, Marcus went to his mother trying to convince her to stay but the Queen refused. Her oldest son, Charlie, left as well, although he cared very little who his sibling fucked, just as long as he was the favorite again.

Outside Greenwich people were crying, chanting for Margery whom they considered their true Princess, and some of them were yelling curses at her husband's newborn bastard. It brought Margery little comfort. She had lost. Marcus did not want to share her bed except on occasions when he had to, when her father or his mother told him to.

She was forced to watch as he was carried by his grandmother. Lady Sudeley wanted no part in it but she had no choice. She and her husband were summoned. Her Uncle looked not pleased in the least but he smiled because this was his first grandchild and he loved his daughter unconditionally and his presence here was a statement that he would give her his support no matter what she did.

Margery tore her eyes from the spectacle. Three months after that piglet's birth, her father had sent for her.

"You sent for me?"

Ned did not pay her any heed. His gaze remained down at his papers.

She cleared her throat. He looked up and she saw the rage that emanated from his eyes. "What happened?"

"I-I …" she thought of any lame excuse that would get her out of trouble like she used to do when she was a child. But that was then, when she was mistress of his manor after her mother, when she could bribe and do as she pleased at will. Now she was all alone with no one to help her. She decided to tell her father the truth. "I have tried papa … I have tried to love him-"

He held his hand up forcing her into silence. But she felt she had to add something and that, she did. "I am sorry father." She bit her tongue to prevent more self-pity. Yet she could not help herself when she said –"I thought he will love me forever, I thought I would love him but I cannot. I can't love him father."

Ned put his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his folded hands. It looked like he was praying but she knew better.

"Do you know what this means for us?" He asked.

"Yes. I do. And …"

"What? Nothing?"

She shook her head.

He sighed and unfolded his hands and hid his face in his hands. "You did not have to love him Margery but you had to keep him convinced you did." His face came up. "Now all lords will be looking on us, waiting for you to make another mistake and I don't say this to scare you but to warn you sweetheart. Everyone will be looking at you, wishing for your fall."

"I will not fall." She vowed. She was a Seymour of Somerset, she was invincible, her father told her when she was a child. Her family was still the highest and most prestigious in England. "I will not." She repeated, this time her voice firm.

Ned's dark blue eyes pierced her dark grey ones and he smiled liking what he saw, a window into her soul he found a fierce, determined young woman who could have everything she wanted –if she was strong enough to embrace her qualities and not be bound by duty and honor. Those were her mother's words, not his family's. And she, he saw in her eyes, was the wolf's daughter.

He rose from his chair and walked to her. He touched a part of her face with his hand. "I know but the others will feast on you like crows that they are, if you fail. I want you to be careful Margery, not just for us but for you." _I cannot bear to lose you_ –his eyes spoke.

Margery nodded. His father lowered his hand and after a long minute of silence he embraced her.

"How long does it go on?" She asked.

"Until we are all secure, until we've dealt with all our enemies."

"It's no use. Every time our family has tried to deal with an enemy, we create two more."

Ned closed his eyes.

"I only want peace."

He let her go and cupped her chin. "I want peace as well, but we will never have it if you continue this way. Tell Marcus you are sorry, act the part of the sorry maiden, give him what he wants and he will come to your bed."

Margery said nothing, she nodded. It was her duty. To be sold off like a prized horse, to be ridden as many times her husband liked.

Ned watched her go. He wheeled around and faced his desk. He had been writing to his younger siblings, Dorothy and Henry. They would come at his request. He knew they didn't like him or Tom, but he needed them because only them could help him keep his daughter safe.

As the mental image of his daughter screaming and crying for mercy when Marcus came into her room, blaming her nerves for losing the child, emerged, he found himself squeezing his fists.

He would not abandon her like he abandoned Jane at her last hours and his nephew, her son, whom he'd gave over to his tutors thinking he would flourish under them, only to have his hopes crushed when he imprisoned him and nearly had his way with his older daughter.

Not this time –Ned vowed. He returned to his seat. There were many more letters he needed to finish, more family he needed to come. At this point, Marcus could have planted his seed in another whore's belly or in his niece again; that made Margery's position more unstable.


	12. Chapter 12

**1561**

**Christ oh Lord! What have you done?: South to North**

"_Did it ever occur to you that I'd be the one contributing to your legacy?" ~Cersei Lannister._

Margery knelt before her sibling. He was very little. Aye –her mind told her, adding –but healthy. Something you do not have the luxury to boast. Her miscarriage had brought doubts to the legality of her marriage. People rallied around Marcus quick to say it was an affront to God, but everyone conveniently forgot how it was Marcus who had agreed to the affront when he willingly married her. No one had forced him, no one had tied him to a chair and forced him into the Queen's closet. That had all been him, at his own insistence, just as the child he had created with that piglet.

Thinking of their child made her blood boil. They even had the gall to call him 'Henry' after the founders of their royal House.

Margery left to her rooms where she found her Uncle. "What are you doing here?" She asked, although her voice was devoid of any emotion. This was the man who hated her, whom she mocked, and mocked his daughter, yet today he was nothing more but another courtier. She no longer felt anything for anyone. Her only companion was her wolf and she noted how Orion was resting his head on Thomas Seymour's lap.

Even he deserts me.

Sensing his mistress' distress, Orion got down from the sette and ran to his mistress. His soft purring softened her heart and she knelt next to him, stroking his golden fur. "There, there, you know I can't stay mad at you for long." She whispered kissing his forehead in the exact place where the silver line stood.

"I've come first to apologize." Thomas said in earnest.

She snorted. "You must think me really stupid. Isn't this your day of triumph Uncle? You and my Aunt got what you wanted. Your daughter is Marcus' favorite, she's given me a son and if all goes well he will divorce me, declare my daughters bastards and she will become Princess."

"You got it all wrong. I did not come here to gloat."

"Really?" She advanced towards him. "What your daughter did was not only wrong in the eyes of the Lord but in mine. She took my baby away, the only chance I had to give Marcus what he wanted, to prove to the world that I was not –" She was about to say it. Useless. She was not useless. She was not. She turned away from her Uncle and stared at the window. Full Moon. Hunter's moon, her father called it. She had read all about it, how in the old times before Christianity there would be wildfires, and men and women would come together freely, not as man as wife, but merely as a celebration, a tribute to their heathen gods and not long after the women would find themselves with child. But not me.

Was she really destined as Anne said, to have nothing but daughters?

She sat in an empty armchair by the window and touched her flat belly. Thomas felt compassion for her, and walked in her direction and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Margery … look at me." She did. "I know you do not believe me but I am truly sorry for your loss."

He left her chambers and let her grieve in private. When Marcus came he allowed her no such thing, he saw no tears but only eyes and cheeks red with rage. There was nothing in her heart left but hatred and she mocked him for it, blamed him for all her losses, her miscarriage, and her lost happiness. All at his hands. And in response he slapped her, hard across the face but she did not cry. She was a Seymour, the wolf's daughter and her eyes said so as they looked to Orion, telling him to stay.

"I shall wear this like a badge of honor."

"Then I suggest you hold your tongue before I honor you more." He declared and roughly took her, dumping her on the bed where he dumped his seed in her.

* * *

The remaining pair of weeks transpired slowly. No child in her belly. The Queen called her to her presence chamber again.

"Mary dear, leave us. Margery why don't you be a dear and congratulate your cousin, let's hear a toast for our new grandchild." Margery did not miss her mock tone, however it did not make things better. "Curtsy to our little wolf, will you?"

She was forced to and showed Mary a smile.

"My lady, congratulations on your son's first birthday." She said and went on to take the goblet the Queen had offered her and drink to both her and her son's health.

"Thank you cousin, His Grace is a fortunate man to have such a sweet wife like you by his side." She said and French kissed Mary, on each of her cheeks.

"Amusing isn't it little dove? You started as the she-wolf, now she a mere Earl's daughter succeeded in giving the crown what you could not."

"I am trying Your Majesty-"

"In doing what? Giving His Highness another daughter?" She mocked. The Queen's lips pursed. She put her goblet down and poured more wine from the flagon next to it. "Sit." She stared right into Margery's eyes. "Let me give you some advice no one gave me when I became Queen. If you want your husband to give you a son, do as he says, please him, smile, moan when he fucks you and if he still hates you, take it all in so when you become Queen and your son comes of age, you will have the support of the higher nobles and the commons." She said. "Here, drink."

"I have no wish to, Your Majesty and thanks for your advice."

"I said drink."

Margery did so, seeing no way to escape the Queen's command. The wine tasted bitter with each word the Queen said, each time her tone hardened, each time her tone rose. She wanted to drill her words into her head and she succeeded.

"My lord father, your grandfather, always said that sons always contribute more to our dynasty's legacy, I never believed it. I was always the one listening to his sermons, staying up late, studying, hearing the Privy Council, answering their summons while the rest of my siblings, including your mother, were too busy cajoling like mares with their stallions." She laughed as she saw Margery's eyes sharpened. "You are angry I insult your mother? You might idolize her little dove, but she is not as smart as she thinks she is. While she was busy lying with your father and reminding me of my responsibilities, I was working hard on my endeavor to protect you all. Had it not been for me, you would all be dead."

"Just how is this supposed to help me Aunt when I am still without child?"

Bella ignored her niece's sarcasm. "You have four daughters. Pray little Sybilla, Johanna, Marie, and Harriet live long enough to marry, especially Sybilla so she can give the crown royal sons. Of course that will mean the loss of the Tudor name." She said. "But it's better than nothing, I guess. Speaking of which, I am sending you to our Northern borders, the urchins love you over there and you will have the best commanders at your disposal."

The command took her by surprise, she nearly dropped her goblet.

"What? No thanks on your part?"

"Your Majesty it is so sudden -"She stuttered. The Queen cut her off.

"Spare me the pleasantries, the Council has decided," _rather I have_, she thought, "You leave tomorrow, your Uncle, Lord Sudeley will accompany you and Margery, I've asked my son to visit your chambers today."

Margery felt cold inside. She curtsied to the Queen regnant and left her chambers and headed to her own.

Marcus did come that night and same as every night since he honored her, he took her roughly, no emotion, no sweet words, nothing. The following morning he was gone. He didn't even send her a note or a servant to bid her farewell.

Her Uncle helped her into her carriage, she glared at him but he still helped her. Her wolf would not leave her side so he travelled with them in the same carriage. Margery noticed how he never growled at him, even when they lodged in the castle near the border, never once he did. He always growled at Marcus, even at her father sometimes, but not at Tom.

Strange, she thought. Omitting the fact she had thought of her Uncle as Tom, and not as her Uncle.

"Your Highness." She was greeted by the chatelaine, and by the others whom she guessed were Her Majesty's commanders.

"At ease gentlemen." She said.

They smiled at her and walked her to her chambers. It was the first time they had a royal visit that was not cold and critical. Yet the Duchess was no fool, they observed as she asked for the account book, and to be taken to the nearby camp, assessing their troops. Whatever her opinions were though, unlike her mother in law, she kept them to herself.

Once in her chambers, she asked to be left alone. The journey had left her tired. Not everyone however heeded her command. There was a single knock on the door, loud enough to wake the dead.

She opened her chamber door and saw it was Thomas.

"What can I do for you Lord Sudeley?" She asked, trying to keep her voice devoid of any emotion, but her Uncle saw in her eyes something he had not seen before and he did not know whether to be led on or ignore it.

"My lady, Her Majesty sent me here to make sure you were well guarded. News have arrived that His Majesty, the French King, might attack. The Queen of Scotland, your cousin has been given an official coronation by the pope thus making you and the Queen's heirs bastards."

She said nothing, so he continued. "Lord Derby, your brother in law advises you to return."

"What do you advise Uncle?"

"Stay, prove to your father and the country what Seymours are made of." Thomas said after a while of his eyes boring into her, studying her closely. She was stronger than she looked but she lacked resolve, she had become a Princess of ice and although in other times he would have rejoiced at her suffering right now he felt nothing but pity.

She gave him leave.

"Lord Sudeley!" She called and he turned at one.

"Your Grace?"

"Tell Lord Derby he can leave if he wishes so," she said and added with an imperious tone. "We," she said using the royal term for the first time, "will not hold it against him but I cannot say the same for Our troops."

Thomas grinned, pleased to see and hear her old self returning. It might just be, he thought for the first time, that his brother had been right and it was not Meggie, his sons, or even Thomas', who had been the wolf's heir, but Margery. The true wolf's cub.

* * *

Alfred walked on his two feet. "Ma, pa." he said, giggling as his mother picked him. Edward was enchanted by his little boy. He felt like a young man around him. When he scooped him from his mother's arms and kissed his forehead, Alfred giggled as he felt's his father's moustache on his fair skin. "Pa" he cried, clapping his hands when he showed him a toy soldier he made for him. Unlike Meggie who had spurned him when he presented her with a similar gift, Alfred was delighted by it and he showed it through his claps, with the toy clasped in his fingers.

"No sweetling, don't chew, you will choke." Mary chided, but Alfred did not listen. He did the exact opposite and after he heard his father clear his throat he took it out and spit in Meggie's direction who'd just entered his chambers.

Ugh, she seethed as the little beast threw his wretched toy at her. I should have you roasted and feed you to the lions in the royal menagerie in Tower Green. She thought. She hated nothing more than seeing her parents happy with this monster, if she had Anne's courage she would have taken the critter and dumped him in the river. Instead she chose to show him her indifference.

He cried when he accidentally stepped over his chewed toy. He squealed, wailing harder when his older sister approached.

Seymour men, Mary thought handing him over to Ned. Her eyes pleaded not to say anything he would regret to Meggie, however his heart was hardened when she saw her unapologetic smile. "You called me here, father?"

"Lord Derby returned to court without your sister, why?"

She shrugged giving a careless smile. "I don't know, why don't you ask Anne, I am sure she knows, she is his wife after all."

"I am not in the mood for games Margaret, you and Anne confide in everything, now once more why did he return without your sister?" He asked, his face becoming scarlet red when she remained silent, grinning at the little mite in her father's arms.

"I do not know." She said at last, her tone mirroring his. "But you can ask the Queen, rumors are flying around court that it is your daughter who decided to stay. Personally I am not surprised, you always told us to be strong, to be mindful of our duties, and Margery is after all your daughter, made in your image. She will stay there and defend the fort against any attack."

Before Ned could reply, Mary placed a hand on his shoulder, calming him. She turned to Meggie. "Thank you Meggie, tell Anne I will visit her later."

Meggie nodded and left their chambers without saying another word.

Ned watched her go, briefly wondering where the little Meggie had gone. Was she truly dead? Had he really screwed her up with his incessant plotting and ambition? He had done nothing but securing his family's future through marriages and increasing their fortunes. He had done so to keep them all safe, and yet they hated him for it.

* * *

"His seed has taken root." She spoke her thoughts aloud, not realizing that as she did her Uncle had entered her chambers. He did not hear the entire sentence but what he heard made him think that Marcus had hurt her in some way, however every time he tried to look at her face, her hair was always cascading, covering her cheeks. Today it was different, she had a snood encrusted with pearls, but part of her hair was still loose and because of the dim light in her bedchamber he could not see.

Forgetting herself she let go of her hair trappings. She was tired of pretending to be someone she was not, she was tired of being encased in a jewelry box, to be guarded gawked at like she was some brood mare at some auction.

No matter where she went, she would just exchange one cage for another.

Thomas saw the dried up tears in her face through her reflection. "Margery," he called.

She turned, "Yes," said she, showing a hollow smile.

He had stayed with her to protect her but there was a greater reason, one he wished not to show.

"Lord Derby has returned. He bears a message from your father-" He closed his mouth as she turned, her eyes as cold and penetrating as Ned's.

"Tell him he can return to his humble abode, I take orders from no one but the Queen and We shall stay here to defend this fort to our last breath."

She did not have to repeat herself; he did as she bid him. Lord Derby put up a fight, telling him it would be his neck if she did not return. "Then let us hope Lord Derby that for my sister's sake my lord father grants you mercy."

He began to protest but Margery reminded him, raising her voice while her smile was still plastered on her face, not a sane smile, but a cold one; that someday she would be Queen and she would be the one in her husband's councils not her husband. For that she thanked Mary, for a man with a whore meant she would be free to run his kingdom.

_Strange_, thought she, _I wanted things to be nice and pretty the way they were in the songs. You are a fool, a golden fool._

She returned to her chambers receiving no one but the commanders. Sir Henry Seymour, Lord Sudeley, her Uncles were there with her, the latter she listened to more because of his experience. Jon Connington, a newcomer and merchant's son who had traveled the world and knew more about the enemy –having been a mercenary who had been pardoned on fighting for her Aunt, the Queen- was the best tactician.

Not a tactician or military, but the best councilor she had, Sir William Cecil who had once served under her late Uncle's administration -and for that her Aunt had never forgiven him- served now as president of her council.

Her Aunt, Dorothy Seymour assumed the position of her chief lady-in-waiting since so many had deserted. Fearful cows, thought she, I will have their heads once I am victorious.

She closed the council meeting and told everyone to prepare and fire the canons at dawn.

"Why at dawn?" Asked Sir John Connington.

"Because the Scots are under Marie of Guise's leadership and half of her men are Guise's men, French and mercenaries, they fight for money, to rape, to pillage, not for honor. Our men fight for their very lives, and men desperate fighting for survival are more dangerous than mercenaries." She said and Sir John kept his peace.

She turned to Cecil. "Give this to Our Evangelical friend, tell him I will pardon any man, woman, and child who pledges his or herself to the true faith."

"Won't that make the Catholics angrier?" Her Uncle, Sir Henry asked.

"It will," she said with a grin, "and it will strengthen the Scottish faction that wants religious reform. Add in your letter Sir Cecil that any able body that can be spared that fights for us, the English crown shall see to it that he is given the lands of their late Catholic lords."

Sir Cecil nodded and did as he was told. He was pleased with the turn of events. He never trusted their current monarch and she did not trust him. She awarded him meager posts, always berating him for every little mistake he made, even when he did not. This lady was different. This young woman was not a religious reformer as he would have wanted, but she was a woman of much common sense, better than the Queen.

"Your Grace, you want the armies assembled now, just in case they attack-"

"They will not attack Uncle, keep the armies ready but do not assemble them. Give the appearance that we are oblivious, if what our little birds whispers is true, Marie intends to attack tomorrow after dawn, if she sees the armies assembled she will attack now while we have not yet loaded the canons. It must be tomorrow at dawn." She said. She would not give the French bitch the upper hand.

Sir John nodded, humbled by the Princess and Duchess of York's strong voice. He and the others were dismissed except her Aunt and Uncle, Dorothy and Thomas Seymour.

Dorothy took her snood and what little jewels she wore and put them in her chest. "Aunt," The elder woman turned to face her, "when they come and they will, if they are successful I want you to take these to my father and tell him …no, don't tell him anything. Just show them these. Will you do this for me?"

Dorothy nodded without protest and left at once. Margery watched her leave with an armed escort. _Nobody better to know these woods, she will arrive safe. But me? I will stay here and either perish or come triumphant._

Margery turned away from the window and faced her Uncle. Their gazes met, there was no need for words, an unspoken agreement passed between them.

"You can leave if you wish to, I shall not hold it against you."

"I choose to stay."

"When they come they will show you no mercy, I will not let them take me alive even if that is their wish so they will ransom me, when they see you they will kill you. Go, go back to your family … Uncle." Thomas. She almost said.

"No," he repeated and walked in her direction. Their faces were only inches apart.

His presence, so close to her got closer with every word he spoke. It made her nervous but she did not show it, yet he saw it. "I have made my will, my peace with God, if anything happens my wife and sons will be well cared for."

"And Mary? Will she be well cared for or will she have to play Duke's mistress again for her love?"

"I thought you would be pleased she is out."

"No, like me she will be in a worse position if she finds herself turned from mistress to wife of the Duke of York."

"It is not something I wish on anyone." She added turning her face away, letting tears fall as she remembered Marcus' last honor.

In the candlelight and no longer burdened by affairs of state and war, Thomas saw at last the bruise on the right side of her cheek. He put his palm on her face and descended it to her chin, cupping it. In contrast his touch was gentle and soft. He turned her to face him. "Has he done this before?"

"No, my father would kill him if he did." She said ceasing her tears.

I will kill him was Thomas' first thought when she told him how it happened and how he'd taken her. Despite what the black tongues said about him, he had never taken a woman against her will. He was a lecher, a fool, a drunk before he met Kate, but never a rapist.

"You must be thinking I am fool. Look at me, your brother's favorite daughter, the future Queen crying." She said with a cold laugh.

"No I would never take you for a fool. Proud, arrogant but never a fool." He said in earnest with a sheepish smile hoping to get a smile from her, a genuine warm smile like the many she saw from Kate and her mother. There was none.

Reading his thoughts, she said, "I feel nothing. Nothing when I am around people, nothing even when his child left me last week, I felt nothing …" Her voice drifted.

His gaze fell to her now empty stomach. He did not know she was with child, had he known, he would have bound her, gag her, and taken her to safety.

Against his better judgment he kissed her. Her lips were cold, coarse against the bitterness of their Northern climate, however they felt soft to him. "So much pain." He said as he pulled his lips away. He passed his other hand through the other side of her face, slowly descending to the curves of her body covered by the thinness of her nightgown. Feeling her skin grow hot he kissed her again, she tried to protest as she remembered this was her Uncle and the Queen's words –love no one but your children –but as the kiss intensified, they vanished and feeling her body growing hot with desire she opened her mouth and their tongues clashed. When they pulled away they stared at each other only for a moment, then they kissed again and with the same fervor, ardent passion, and need for each other brought about by loss, war, and cruelty, he took her in his arms and carried her to her bed. He did not dump her, threw her, he put her down slowly and took his clothes off, his furs, his golden collar, his chemise, his hose until there was nothing left. He did the same for her, and as they began kissing more intensely their hands roamed each other's body, holding unto the other as their bodies became one. Each touch, each thrust, was imprinted on their memory. As she gasped, feeling him enter her, he kissed her and for each kiss she would hear him whisper –_I love you_- and she felt a white dream, a white vision of pure sweetness invading her, stealing her away.


	13. Chapter 13

**1561-1562**

**Losing My Religion: Northumberland to Greenwich**

_"I'm a million different people from one day to the next, I can change my mold." ~The Verve  
_

Was it a dream? She thought at the sound of bells. She dreamed of her parents again for the third night in a row. They sat near the fire praying for her safe return and on her father's lap, where she had once been, was her little brother, Alfred.

As she tried to approach them, tell them she was a fine, a mysterious voice told her to wake up.

Margery opened her eyes. Thomas was kissing her lips. He descended to her sheath, thrusting his mouth forward, exploring every corner of it until he came up and they became one, body and soul.

The siege lasted weeks, she sent a happy letter to her father that made him rejoice and worry more.

His answer was to come back immediately, she refused him. She would not come back, not until she did her duty. She was a Princess and a royal Duchess, and if the Queen would not send reinforcements, the borders would be lost and the French bitch and her flock of Roman worshipers would invade her country and thrust the crown upon that Scottish Queen of hers, Mary Stewart and her husband, the Dauphin. She owed it to her father, herself, and above all to her country to keep her safe.

They met for a third week, this time Margery wore armor. She gave an inspirational speech that gave courage to the troops as they engaged on the enemy, this time it was the last. Win or lose, the fate of her nation would be decided tonight.

As she stepped from her horse her Uncles congratulated her. Her Aunt Dorothy took special care of her, this child could be the boy that England needed and the Queen had given her especial instructions –that Margery disregarded- to protect her at all cost. She rode on the fields, looked after the wounded, even opened her chambers for some of them, which made Thomas angry as it gave them less time to see each other.

She gave him her favors, not green and white as she had given his younger brother, her other Uncle, Henry Seymour, but gold and silver, the colors of their House. And she wished him all the best luck in the world. "Will my niece not kiss my sword?"

"Your niece or your lover?" She teased, lowering her voice as others started to come. He laughed at her jest and unsheathed his sword, and as she promised, she kissed it and bade him farewell.

* * *

She donned her armor and waited impatiently, drinking more and more.

"Is it wise my lady on your condition?" A royal page asked.

"How old are you?"

"Thirteen my lady." He said, looking at her quizzically, not understanding what this had to do with everything.

"And your name?"

"Timothy Ropes"

"Ropes, such a funny name." She put her goblet down. "Tell me Master Ropes, how would you like me to strangle you?"

"Madame-" She rose and pushed him to the ground, he fell on his back, crying out loud as the Duchess threw her goblet at him. "Mercy!"

"Call me 'my lady' and 'Madame' one more time and I will strangle you in your sleep, is that clear?" The boy nodded, tearing his eyes away from the cold beauty. "I am not your lady and so old that you can call me 'Madame', I am your Duchess, your Princess and until this battle ends your sovereign lord." She said, choosing the word 'lord' over 'lady'. She waved her hand dismissively and asked not to be disturbed unless it pertained to the battle.

News arrived the following morning. Her Aunt had fallen asleep on her sette, while Margery remained perfectly still, in the position she'd been in before Timothy Ropes disturbed her peace. They were not too flattering and she liked it that way. She preferred the honest truth, no matter how brutal it was, instead of flattery.

Her resolve however, crumbled and she felt herself going down as her Uncle repeated the fateful news. "They came at us from everywhere like devils. I told Thomas I could handle it but he- he-" His voice broke into sobs, it was the first time he cried. Even when he was young and Thomas taunted him, he never cried. "-he said he could take them, our flank was exposed so he had no choice … you must understand we had no choice, Thomas, he fought bravely but …"

She held a hand forcing him to silence. "He fought bravely," she said after a long pause. And he lost -she was about to say but instead said, "and he will be remembered as a hero. We must rejoice for Lord Sudeley guaranteed our freedom from those Catholic hounds and the Queen Regent's forces."

Her Uncle wrapped his arms around her, she said nothing and let him grieve. She wouldn't, whatever she had to say would be to her God and Him alone.

* * *

The people gave her a grand welcome as she and the royal army toured the countryside, ignoring the Queen's commands to return to London. She would return to London on her own terms, whenever she wanted, Queen or not, she was no longer Isabella's slave nor her husband's, she was a Seymour of Somerset and she had no mistress except herself.

* * *

"My love?" Marcus asked one morning as he felt his lover stir. "Mary?"

He turned her over, there were tears rolling down her cheeks, all the way down her exposed cheeks. "My father … I dreamed of my father …"

He sat up and circled her arms around her waist and brought her closer to him. She buried her face in his chest. "There, there, it is over. He is with God now."

"No, he is not. He said so, he said he is suffering Marcus for my sins. He is being punished because of me." She sobbed harder.

Marcus held her, passed his hands through her long raven hair and back and rocked her back and forth as if she was a small child. "What kind of merciful God would punish your father? There is nothing to be ashamed-"

"But-"

"Nothing," he said, taking her lips, "Your father made his choice to stay and fight, and he fought like a hero and died as one. You are all that remains of him, wherever he is, I am certain he is proud of you."

"You really think that I take after him?"

"Yes I do. You are the wolf's daughter, a true daughter of the House of Seymour and you are also my love." He added crashing his lips once again against hers.

* * *

Margery arrived on London on the twenty seven of May. Three months after the fighting and her tour were over. She was greeted with an amiable tone by the Queen, followed by her royal cousins, including her husband who did not look too happy to see her.

"Would you have preferred husband that I died with the child as well?"

"Do not be ridiculous." Marcus hissed as he led her to the high table. She smiled at everyone, this was a game after all, a game. A game of love and revenge, yet love had nothing to do with it. Love had died when her Uncle died, and with it all hopes of a better life.

Yet, he had left a small remembrance in her.

* * *

As the pregnancy advanced, she began to grow more tired. The child was taking its toll on her, like its father it got jealous over the simplest thing, it craved her attention, whenever Marcus was near it would let her know it was upset. He would shift his position or kick her with more vigor. Eventually as her back pains increased, she decided to leave sleep in her own chambers. When the child was born she would return to Marcus, in the meanwhile she would stay confined with her ladies. Afterwards they could return to each other's side and pretend they were happy.

* * *

Kate took her daughter aside. "I need to speak with you."

"That much is plain,"

"Do not jest Mary, this is neither the place nor the time." Kate scolded. "Your father left you out of his will because he knew you could take care of yourself-"

"And you are worried I cannot?"

"No, I know you can. You've always been able, but it's your rival I am worried about." She looked around.

"There is no one here mother." But Kate did not trust her, who knew where the Duke of Somerset's lay hidden? Sniveling little lot, she remembered seeing the look on Ned Seymour's face on her daughter's return and how it got distorted when they shifted on Mary.

He made no secret of his hate for her, in his position she would probably feel the same but she wasn't, Mary was her daughter and despite her sins, Kate would also protect her.

"We can't take any risks." She took her daughter to her chambers and told her to sit.

"Mary what I am about to ask you, promise me you will tell me the truth."

"Mother what-"

"Promise me." Kate said.

Mary nodded, never seeing her mother this distraught.

Kate took a deep breath and asked, "Are you pregnant?"

"Yes. I haven't told Marcus yet." She confessed. Her brow creased, "How did you know?"

"That's not important, what matters is that you must look after yourself and don't leave your room without an armed escort. I know some men loyal to you father, I can help you find some-"

"Mother, nothing is going to happen to me, the Queen likes me and Margery is in confinement where she can't reach me." She said rising from her seat to calm her shaking mother. "Mind telling me what this is about?"

Kate sighed and wheeled around. It had been so long … she didn't even believe her mother when she told her the story but seeing her daughter again, and on Margery's return, and now Mary was with child, she had to believe that some of it was true. She had to, so she could become more fierce in her fight to potect her daughter from the evil forces around them.

She turned back to her daughter. "When I was little my mother told me a story about our ancestor, your many times great-Aunt, Lady Anne Neville."

"You mean Queen Anne, whatever else Richard was he was an anointed King." Said Mary with a sheepish smile that reminded her so much of Thomas.

"Please, Mary.

"Sorry, go on."

She sighed. "Not many know this, it was never recorded but Anne had been for a short while in Elizabeth Woodville's service as lady of the bedchamber. It was position only reserved for noblewomen and Lord Warwick had not accepted the Queen's proposal to place her in her household but then as you know Clarence's rebellion failed and he had no choice but to accept. He chose Anne amongst his daughters because she was the youngest and yet unmarried. The things the Queen made her do …"

"What?" Mary asked, sharing her mother's frown. Her mother always talked of Bess Woodville and her kin –in spite she descended from one of them- as the devil's brood.

"…" she took a sharp breath, "She made Anne remain in the room every time she and the King … well you know."

Mary's eyes widened in horror, she brought a hand to her mouth. She looked pointedly at her mother, unwilling to believe what she told her, but the truth was written all over her face, her eyes didn't lie.

"How could she …" The words died in her mouth as she tried to picture poor, innocent Anne Neville being submitted to such depravities. "No … she couldn't have! She was the Queen."

"Quiet Mary, we must be cautious. She did, and she subjected all her women to the same humiliation. You have never heard the stories and for that I thank myself because I didn't want you to grow with such a grim perspective of the world as your cousins. Queen Elizabeth was a terrible woman Mary, she made everyone, poor and rich bend the knee to her. She would make her own mother kneel to her. She was not fit to be Queen, yet the King fell madly in love with her and he followed her every command." She smiled sadly. "Most of the Neville family believed it was the work of witchcraft and they were not wrong. Our ancestor Lady Alice saw it with her own eyes when the Queen cast the blood she'd drawn from her eldest daughter, our late Queen Elizabeth, into the cauldron and mixed it with herbs and began chanting, commending her soul and that of her daughter to her ancestress, that river demon, Melusina."

She paused, taking her daughter's shoulders. "Your cousins and their royal cousins are descendants of her and therefore they have a power that is outmatched by any man. Our prayers won't help us, unless you abandon Marcus and I suspect you won't, you must be careful not to cross her."

"Mother you told me not to believe in superstition, even if the York Queen did practice magic, that does not mean it worked."

"It has. Look at the dynasty, not one son has survived. Edward, our late King died in his teens and his sisters have been the only ones able to provide the dynasty with sons."

"Are you saying that Bess Woodville's powers extended so far as to prevent nature and God from giving our ruling House sons?" She asked skeptically.

"Not all, just the men."

Mary grinned but seeing her mother's serious face, it vanished from her face. "Mother, I know you worry but you and I know that our last King was able to beat that curse."

"I know but who knows if it is only so Eddie will live long enough to have nothing but daughters, same as his grandfather before Jane Seymour became his wife. All I am saying Mary is to be careful."

"But mother that was the past. It's not as if cousin Margery knows magic."

"No, but have you ever wondered why out of all the Seymour children, your cousin was the only one to be born with features _exactly_ like her mother?" Mary mumbled something, trying to work out an answer but she found none so she pursed her lips. "In fact, not only has she inherited her mother's features, she_ is _her mother."

"Mama what are you saying?"

"That Margery is not what she seems Mary. Her beauty is unnatural. Four children, another on the way and not one scar, not one sign of tiredness."

"But Margery goes to Church-"

"So did Edward's Queen and look all the damage she did."

"But Margery does not know magic."

"She doesn't have to, you remember when you were little how she scared us with her dreams. How she said she knew when something was going to happen. She sees things Mary, she does not need magic because she is magic, she is the devil's daughter. That wolf she found near the river is no coincidence, nor surviving her near drowning."

She released Mary. Mary was too stunned to speak. She could not believe it but once again her disbelief was won over by reason and her mother's eyes who could not lie to her.

"What am I to do then?"

"Be strong," was her mother's response, "While she has magic running through her veins, you have God on your side, and as long as you keep praying, she will never win."

Mother and daughter embraced one last time then Mary left her chambers to go to her own, shared by Marcus, to ponder on her mother's warnings. Whether she would listen or think them as the ravings of an old woman, only time would tell.


	14. Chapter 14

**1562**

**Love Is Mean: Greenwich, Palace of Placentia**

_"__The more people you love the weaker you are. You will do things for them that you know you shouldn't do. You'll act the fool to make them happy, to keep them safe."_  
~Cersei Lannister  


"Husband," Margery greeted upon his entering, "What bids you, pray tell us, to my chambers?"

"Leave us."

Marcus waited until all of them were gone to show her the letter.

"What is this?" She asked in her usual pliant manner while resting one hand on her swollen stomach.

"Read." Was his immediate answer.

Not daring to refuse him, she did. Her mouth could have hit the floor. Her eyes widened. "Is this true? It can't be."

"Oh but tis is and copies of these letters are circulating all over Europe!"

"You mean there is more than one?"

"Do not play the fool with me Margery, you know your sister better than anyone, you idolized her-"

"And this is why you disturbed my confinement and dismissed my ladies, because you think I had something to do with this? That this is part of some great plot to put the crown on my cousin's head?"

"Not your cousin, your nephew."

"It is not proven."

"It is so. Several ladies have been called into questioning, your friend Cecil himself has taken charge of them, and all attest your Aunt stopped having her courses after Lady Mary was born." He added after a long silence, having searched in her eyes for the truth but he was greeted by nothing but cold indifference –He sighed inwardly, he wished she would say something, yell, scream, berate him as she used to. Anything but this!- "She could not be their mother so that only leaves one choice."

"And you are willing to believe this?" She asked, her brow creasing, showing the first sign that she cared but it soon vanished as she asked him with contempt, "Supposing this is true, what will you do with them?" Before he could answer, she said –"Being their Aunt and a Princess, they fall under mine protection."

"Our protection," he corrected. "And in any case it is not for you to decide but my lady mother, the Queen-"

"So you are letting the fate of England being decided by one woman, how marvelous." She said turning her head away.

Marcus clenched his fists. _Not yet. After she is delivered …_

"It must have rankled you. First you marry a cold shrew then you find out my father is the proud grandfather of two potential threats."

"Silence, woman."

"Or you will what?" She asked with renewed vigor as the child inside her kicked softly. "Choke me, beat me, rape me? Bore me to death?" She burst in laughter. "You will do no such thing because I carry the next King of England in my belly and because you want to see yourself crowned King in the absence of an heir on your brother's part. I am your only the hope you have."

Margery saw his lips tremble her, his fists half raised. He threw his fist at her, not hitting her, but coming inches apart from her face. He turned his back and waltzed out of her chambers, grumbling and cursing under his breath.

She would have to send one of her ladies to inquire on her father, she chose her Aunt, Lady Dorothy Seymour who came back with dire news.

"So it's true." Margery said as her maid brushed her hair. "Did you ask him who will be their ward?"

"Yes, Your Grace has been awarded custody over your niece and your father over the boy."

"When?" She asked, those children could not be in the wolf's lair for long. Many in court would kill to have them, to use them as they pleased. Margery vowed she would safeguard them with her life.

Dorothy looked uneasily.

"What is it?" Margery demanded sharing her Aunt's frown as a sense of foreboding crossed her mind.

Her Aunt's next words confirmed her worst fears. "Lady Ursula waits outside as well as with … your sister."

Margery closed her eyes. She opened them slowly and nodded. "Let them in."

Meggie came in holding Ursula's hand. Ursula was shaking, Margery could tell she didn't want to be near her true mother's company.

"Come here." Margery said, ignoring her sister's grumbling. For now she would let her lack of curtsey pass. They were after all sisters and her father had emphasized on family unity. Family comes first –he'd said, and therefore Margery was willing to put up with anything her sisters threw at her. Also, because by the end of the day they would just be meager Countesses while she would always come first as Princess of England, Duchess of York, Duchess of Bavaria, and some day she hoped Queen of England.

"Your Grace." The little girl curtsied.

"Come closer child."

The girl walked slowly, the Queen held her hand up and she stopped. She cupped her chin and lifted her head to face her.

Dark grey –Margery observed. Dark grey, golden hair, pale skin. Why had they not seen it before?

She let her go and in a surprising gesture, beckoned her to sit next to her. Ursula looked from her mother to her Aunt, both nodded and she climbed on the bed next to her Aunt.

Margery ran her fingers down her cousin –No!- her cousin's golden tresses. Even when she blushed at her compliments, she still looked sickly pale.

Definitely Jane Seymour's grandchild, Margery thought grimly. She told her Aunt to take the child to her outer chambers and the rest of her ladies to leave her and her sister alone.

Both sisters looked at each other for the longest time. Meggie was the first one to break the silence, her voice a knife into her sister's heart. "Well now you know."

"Yes, I do. Why did you not tell father?"

Meggie snorted. "And say what? Hello father I opened my legs to the first man I encountered."

"He was our Uncle."

"Yes, it's sad isn't it? Every time a Seymour fixates his eyes on his niece he dies."

Margery narrowed her gaze.

"Of course in my case I did not have any choice in the matter, I had to save my father one way or another, much good it did me. He gave his youngest daughter away in marriage while I was forced to accept my cousin. How is that for fairness?"

"Our father did what was best for our family."

"Did he now? Taking my children away, is that fair?"

"You gave them up first, you ceded your rights when you gave them to our Aunt and Uncle."

"It wounds you doesn't it? That I have a reminder of our late Uncle while you have none."

Before Margery could defend herself, she added, "It must have wounded that pride of yours when Thomas Seymour refused to lie in bed with you." She sniggered. "And who would, just look at you!"

"I am worth ten of you-"

"You are nothing but a piece of chattel that was sold to the highest bidder, just like me but the only difference is that I have something to remember my Uncle by, while you have none." Her gaze fell down on her sister's swollen stomach. "Pity, if Uncle Thomas hadn't refused you, he would have given you a strong baby, instead you will have a weak baby who will die just like the last one and that will leave Marcus free to marry our cousin."

"My Uncle did not-"

"Oh spare me your self-pity Margery, of course he refused you. I asked the royal page Aunt Bella sent and he said how he was the first one to leave your chambers, he could not stand the sight of you. He was only there because the Queen wanted him to be and because she didn't trust you enough to win the battle. It was his leadership who gave us victory not yours and yet you are the one who is given credit."

"I've honored my parents, I've heeded their every command-"

"And where has that got you? A husband who spurns you, an Uncle who spurned you and four daughters, four miserable little ginger haired girls and more than likely another one on the way." She said pointing to her stomach.

"I am the Princess of England, I will be Queen someday and you and Anne and everyone who mocked me will regret it when I do."

"Careful sister, it will be long before you become Queen –if you ever do." Meggie laughed at her angry expression and Margery did not know what angered her more, her sister's contempt, or her mocking tone that made her spill everything. Meggie however remained unmoved and after she repeated how she had lain with her Uncle, making a cuckold out of Marcus, she laughed harder.

"It is the truth!"

"If you say so." Meggie said grinning, she wheeled out the door and left.

"I haven't given you permission to leave!"

"No sister, I've given it myself which is something I am free to do since it will not be long before you are ousted."

Margery bit her lower lip. She screamed after Meggie, making her sister turn. "Why do you hate me? I've always looked up to you, when no one took your side I did, before Anne and Arthur I was there for you."

"You want to know why I hate you, you really want to know?"

"Yes!" Margery bellowed.

Meggie looked at her from top to bottom. Dressed in rich clothing, fine silks, velvet gown, golden lace on ruff and ruby, pearls and other encrusted gems on her hair. She advanced to her sister who had risen and was having a hard time maintaining her poise. Meggie pushed her down to the bed. "It's because you were born and took the Seymour name while I was left to rot, abandoned like some dog my parents did not want anymore. They gave you everything while I had nothing. At least Anne and Arthur knew a loving father who twirled them and played games with them, I had nothing but a cold father and a lying whore for a mother who only showed true warmth when they were around you." Margery tried to get up, it didn't occur to her that her sister's hatred for her ran this deep, when suddenly a pain hit her.

_No. Please. She begged. Not like Marcus, not like Marcus please._

She could not miscarry this baby, this baby was her last hope, and the only thing she had to remember Tom by.

Ignoring her sister's pain Meggie grabbed her wrist and twisting it, she brought Margery to the floor. Thankfully her other arm was wrapped protectively around her belly. But it did nothing to alleviate the pain she experienced. _Please … _

_Breath in … breath out._ She tried –the sudden realization that no one was coming alarmed her –her time had come and there was no one to rely on, not even Orion who at Marcus' bidding was at the kennels outside the Palace.

_Please …_

While she pleaded with her unborn child, Meggie grabbed her sister by the hair and threw her unto the carpet. This child of hers would have everything, servants, lords and ladies to tend to his or her every need while her children would live as prisoners with her sister and her father. Margery cried out in pain as her sister forced her to her feet and slapped her continuously.

"Please stop!"

"Stop, stop." Meggie mocked. "You should be grateful I am sparing you years of pain, Marcus doesn't want you anymore, even with a boy in your belly he will never love you as he used to. You are better off dead."

"Meggie-"

"Don't you dare call me by my nickname as if we are family. We are not! You are the daughter of loving parents while I am the unwanted daughter of a whore and a liar!"

"Meggie, I am sorry, you are right sister, it is all my fault, I took father's love from you, I became a thorn at your side and I treated your horrible. Please forgive me, please punish me but don't punish the child. Please."

Meggie released her and knelt before her cupping her chin as she had done with her daughter earlier. "How ironic, I always dreamed of this moment and now that I have it with me I feel nothing but pleasure. This must be what our father felt when he tortured the Poles." Spotting a loose needle on the ground, she smiled, took it and ran it across her sister's left cheek.

"Meggie this is your nephew, your blood if you kill him, the blood will be on your hands." She paused and searched her mind for anything she could use that could appeal to her sister's mercy –what was left of it. "I swear to you if this child dies you will have nowhere to hide. Everyone will know it was by your hand me and the child died, it will be you they go after. Is that what you want? To leave your children orphaned? Think this through! Ah!" Meggie buried the needle harder into her cheek.

"I've already thought it through sister and no one will take my children from me. As long as I live I will defend them with my every breath just as I always have."

"You gave them up, you didn't want to see them, you said so yourself, they were a thorn in your spine-" She screamed as her sister suddenly withdrew the needle.

Meggie grabbed her hair and chin with her other hand. "I wanted to raise my babies, I wanted them to know me as their mother but you and father would not let me. Father was too busy plotting against our Uncle and if I told him the truth it would ruin his _darling daughter's _reputation which he wanted to keep intact." Meggie shook her so she would not fall asleep but the pain being too great, she let darkness take her.

Meggie's lips curved upward into a triumphant smile. She rose and turned to leave when her sister's chambers were suddenly opened.

Her Aunt screamed at the sight while her mother went by her side and barked at her daughter's ladies "Call the physicians now!" And her father who Meggie had never seen so angry, gripped her shoulders and took her to a separate room.

"Mama" Margery spoke after being woken up by a foul smell the physician blew to her nose. She was only half awake, barely aware of what was going on.

Her mother was holding her hand while her Aunt Dorothy was screaming at her to push.

"I want my sister. Can you tell papa to send her in?"

Mary's tears blurred her vision as they fell on her eyes. Margery closed her eyes and this time they were closed for good.

"Madame, we must operate now if we want to save the baby."

Mary turned to the physician.

"There is nothing we can do for the Duchess, she is in God's hands now."

Mary sobbed. Susan who was behind her placed her hand on her mistress' shoulder. She shook her head, embracing her daughter. I can't leave her. _Oh God why?_ She was a devout Catholic, how could God do this to her?

"Mary," Susan squeezed harder, "she is in God's hands now; you must let the physicians do their work. Margery would want it this way."

Mary nodded and let go of her daughter for the physicians to do their work.

While they cut her daughter open, Susan turned her around and sang to her as if she were a little girl, alone at Hatfield with no one to rely on but Susan.

Margery was in a dreamless sleep, there was nothing they could do for her, it was either her or the child and what England needed now was a son. Margery would understand, Susan told herself. After all, her legacy would survive through the son she gave Marcus.

* * *

"You stupid bitch! You realize what you have done?" Henry Seymour yelled at his niece. "That was our last hope to quench the French threat!"

"Henry-" His older brother said seeing Henry's fist clenched.

Henry wrung his hands in the air. "I hope you are happy child, if your sister and the babe dies we will be left with nothing but daughters and God forbid if Marcus marries that whore-"

"Henry that is enough. Let me speak with my daughter alone."

Henry looked from Ned to Meggie. He gave a crude laugh. "You might as well shoot yourself, talking to this bitch is like talking to a wall." He said and left the two alone.

Ned advanced slowly to his daughter. Meggie's face remained the same, grinning and occasionally a laugh escaped her lips.

"I just want to know what made you do it."

She raised her eyebrows, crossing her arms against her chest she shrugged and turned her head away.

Meggie slowly turned to face him and saw for the first time not a man but a shade of what had once been one, it made her tremble.

"She deserved it." She managed to say. "You always favored her while I was the black sheep."

Ned took a step closer. He let a cold silence hung in the air. His next words frightened her, deprived of any emotion, any feeling, he spoke to her as if he was speaking to an enemy. "If your sister dies I will place you in a convent and take your children away from you."

"You already have." She said attempting to imitate his tone but she failed very miserably as her father spoke again, and this time he was not as lenient as he'd been before.

"Nothing you do can make me more miserable but I can and now you know true sorrow." Meggie responded to his threat.

Ned clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, daggers shoot from his eyes and he looked at this moment like a fiend from hell. If he did not possess self-control he would have beat her until she had a black eye and a swollen mouth, but the truth was that in Ned's heart lay a beast dormant that was more dangerous than any man's, a beast that wished to wrung his hands on his daughter's plump neck. Yet he kept himself composed and with a heavy heart he uttered the next words –"I will hurt you for this, you think me a monster, well now you have one. If your sister dies I will deliver you to the judges and pass the guilty sentence myself. You will not see the light of day for the rest of your days-"

"You wouldn't dare." She hissed.

"I will dare Margaret. I will take your children and strip them of all memory of you then I will see that you were locked up in a dirty cell with no chance of ever getting out."

"How can you, I am your daughter!"

"You are not my daughter! You renounced that right when you caused your sister's death."

"So she is dead, good, that will be my companion-"

"Watch your tongue Margaret Boleyn! You never wanted me as a father, you thought me as an ogre and your mother a lying whore. Congratulations then, you have your wish!" He gripped her arm "If you did not have my blood I would strike you down." He let her go, as he thought of his wife's message, the mental image of Margery lying in a coma between life and death as the physicians cut her, hit him hard and before he realized it he raised his fist at her.

Meggie struggled to get up; several of her teeth had been knocked out. "Is this how you treat your own?" She said, tears falling from her eyes as she took out her handkerchief to wipe the blood from her mouth.

"When you were born I wanted to cradle you in my arms, you refused preferring your Uncle's company instead. I accepted it because I believed love for me would come."_ Papa. Papa. Papa Thomas. _Was all he heard in his head as he looked down at her. "I wish it was you instead of Margery who died. Is that what you want to hear? I never wanted you, you were just a tool? Well it's true Margaret, you were nothing but a tool and not even a good one –you had to get fucked by the first royal that crossed your path. You served me no purpose except getting me closer to your mother. I never loved you, never! I wished you had died in your mother's belly, I never wanted to take care of you! It should be you out there and not your sister!"

Both were crying now. Ned regretted his words but he couldn't take them back. There was a sudden knock at the door.

"What?!" Ned barked.

"Your Grace, Her Grace has just been delivered of a healthy child."

"What is it?"

"A boy, Your Grace, tis a very plump Prince and he does not cry save when he was parted from his lady grandmother's arms. Her Grace tells me you should rejoice."

"And my daughter?" _**My only daughter**_ –he added looking sharply at his other.

The messenger hesitated, there was an uncomfortable silence.

"How. Is. My. Daughter. Doing?" Ned asked deadly.

He heard the messenger gulp. "She lives, Your Grace."

Ned closed his eyes, thanking God mentally for allowing such mercy.

"But-" the messenger interrupted his thoughts, "she doesn't wake up Your Grace."

Ned opened his eyes and opened the door. The messenger was not given time to explain. Ned darted out of the room leaving him and his daughter alone.

Seeing the Duchess of York's sister distraught, the messenger mistook her sadness and went to help her.

"Thanks." Meggie said, thankful that she had been shown an act of kindness after these excruciating hours.

"Do not burden yourself my lady, your sister will recuperate, you Tudors are a strong lot after all."

"Yes … yes we are." Meggie said looking away from him.


	15. Chapter 15

**1562**

**Game of Revenge: London Borough, Palace of Placentia**

"_If your Gods are real and they are just why is the world so full of injustice?" Jaime Lannister_

Marianne bent down to her sleeping cousin. "I am sorry but your son is growing strong. He's been named Harold just as you wanted, Harold Edward William after the proud conquerors of his time." She could not tell her that her father wanted to name the child Henry to spite Lady Sudeley's daughter. What they needed now more than ever was unity, and the Queen did not to hear of any more family quarrels.

She cupped her cheek. Her brother visited her daily, out of responsibility, want, Marianne did not know but one thing was certain, he had his son at last, a son that placed him one step above their older brother Charlie.

She left Margery's chambers. She found Eleanor waiting on the parlor kneeling before the silver cross their Aunt had brought from her chambers, a symbol of her everlasting devotion to the old faith.

Eleanor rose and curtsied. "Is she still sleeping?"

"Yes." –Was her dreaded answer.

Eleanor looked away, taking her handkerchief she wiped the tears from her face. "I spent three hours praying every day, my mother used to say praying never did anybody any good but I thought … I believed that praying would get my cousin back. I don't have any sisters, not anymore since my younger ones died in the plague along with my mother. Margery is all I have, we always saw ourselves as sisters. It's not fair."

"Life seldom is," Marianne said approaching her. She grasped her hands, "You must give thanks for what we have, Margery will be the most celebrated royal when she wakes up. She's done what our lady grandmother failed so many times in giving. England has a son thanks to her."

A son that will never see his mother. Where was God's mercy? "Is she comfortable at least?" Eleanor managed to say.

"She is." Marianne said. "Do you want to see her?"

Nor nodded and Marianne took her to her.

Margery lay asleep in the same position as she encountered her weeks before. There was a cold smile decorating her face, her body was warm, her hair the same flaming red color as always but in the light it made it seem like she was surrounded by fire, and she was dressed in the finest clothing. Green, white, and gold, colors fit for a Princess.

Nor broke in tears and Marianne held her, soothing her fears, promising her what God could not, that Margery would wake up.

* * *

Wisps of raven hair, crying every time they took him away from his grandparents' arms, he had the same eyes as his daughter but the fair, porcelain skin as his Uncle. His father –his mind reminded him. Ned touched his cheek with his thumb, the baby did not mind, he loved the attention and he especially loved being in his grandfather's arms.

Ned did not know how long they stared at each other, but holding him in his arms brought fresh memories of when his brother was born, how he was the only one who was not afraid to carry him. Thomas had always been difficult, even around Jane. Nobody knew how to control him except him.

_You will make a just King, I will make certain of it._ He returned the baby back to his wet-nurse. It had been his daughter's dream to hold this baby, to breastfeed him, to raise him and love him unlike her eldest children.

"_A child I can call my own"_ –She confessed to him the day prior to her labor.

He left the royal nursery and went to see his other grandchildren. The girls were old enough, the Queen deemed it fit they have royal apartments of their own. It made them feel important. And they certainly were, Ned thought as they greeted him with cold smiles. All like Marcus. He understood why Margery was not close to them.

"Is our lady mother going to be well soon? Our lady grandmother has told us the physicians expect her to recover very soon." Said the oldest one, Sybille.

Ned nodded welcoming their hugs and soft words. He felt very little when he was around them, yet the oldest when she smiled he noticed how much he looked like Mary and by that, also like Margery.

"Uncle." Ned did not acknowledge her, he continued to play with Sybille. "Uncle I need to speak with you."

Silence.

"Please."

He paused, turned to his younger three granddaughters and kissed their foreheads then tilted his head in Sybille's direction and only gave her a smile. She did not need to be kissed, she was smart and wise beyond her years and that smile sufficed for her as she smiled back at her grandfather.

Ned rose and spun around to meet Mary Seymour. He nodded and motioned her to follow him. They arrived at his chambers and closeted themselves in his study. There was not a word spoken until he sat behind his desk and gave her permission to sit. "What do you want?"

Mary cringed at his tone. "Uncle I wanted to talk to you but … I …" she paused thinking of the right words, "… I did not have the courage to come, I wanted to say to you how sorry I was, am, for what's happened. I loved Margery, we had our rows, we fought, we cried, but we were still cousins and her loss is much yours as it is mine."

He smirked. "I always told my daughter to hit you harder when you were children." He laughed at her frown. "Do you think I didn't know what my daughter did behind my back? The people she bribed, the cow dung she threw at you? I encouraged it."

Mary stared at him with disbelief. She could think of nothing but ask "Why?"

Ned leaned forward, gripping the handles in his chair, "Because I knew you to be a pig hoarder and a whore when Marcus started to look your way and because I always hated the idea of any of my brother's kin betraying me."

"I-I al-always thought-"

"You always thought." He chortled "How pathetic you are, no wonder my daughter tormented you, if I had been her I would have done so myself, except I would have been wiser and spread rumors about you instead of directing the actual hit."

Mary felt nothing but contempt and horror at hearing this man, a man she and her siblings to be honorable, speak so. "You unimaginable bastard."

Ned laughed, a steady, cold laugh as the tone in which he spoke his next words –"Me, bastard? I did not provide the royal family with bastards. You did that yourself and you did it very good." His face turned serious. "You served your purpose to shame yourself in front of everyone and you caused my daughter years of misery knowing that she could do nothing but hold her head up high and see as the whore of her cousin took everything she wanted. I do not forget and I do not forgive." His face turned merciless. "Get out and never cross paths with me and my daughter again, and stay away from my son in law."

God, seeing her made him want to strike her, to cut her down into little pieces and serve her to his dogs, better yet to serve her to Margery's wolf Orion who roamed her chambers and her son's looking after them. She reminded him of his first two wives and the darker side of Thomas, the side he prayed his youngest grandson did not inherit.

Mary lips trembled, she nipped her lower lip, and with unshed tears she rose and waltzed out of the room, her heart beating fast with unleashed fury and hatred for all of her Somerset relations.

* * *

Orion roamed the halls whimpering as he always did every time he came back from his mistress chambers with nothing but the same response. He missed Margery's soft hair, her soft lips on his forehead and being surrounded by her warm embrace. The river had sent him to her and because of sibling jealousy she had nearly been taken away from him.

He passed his golden fur through her fiery golden hair. The wolf could have mistaken it by fire had it not been by her perfect fair skin and the warmth that came from it every time he was near. He gave a low howl and moved her head as if to wake her, but he received no response. He left her chambers with a broken heart and went to the Prince. As soon as he saw Anne and Meggie he growled at them then launched himself at them.

The baby howled sensing danger.

"Do it quick!" Anne told Meggie. Meggie held a pillow over his head, but before he could squeeze it on him, the wolf bit Anne's neck causing Meggie to wheel around violently. "Anne!" Then he bit her and Meggie struggled, praying God would deliver her from this beast.

Their stepfather and father came respectively with each of their husbands, Derby and Surrey. Norfolk was behind his son looking in disgust at the scene, figuring out too quickly as his brother in law, Ned, what had happened.

Derby knelt next to his fallen wife, he touched her corpse, covering her neck wound, hoping that would revive her but she remained the same with her eyes wide opened for her late surprise, and her body lifeless.

"How could you let her out of your sight?" Ned and Norfolk told their son and son in law. Surrey was supposed to look after her, now thanks to him if it hadn't been for Margery's loyal companion, their grandson and Prince could have died!

* * *

Ned took Meggie by her arms to her chambers and called his personal physician to bandage her leg. She would need a cane and for this Ned was grateful. Slower meant she would do less harm. He no longer saw a child, the child he yearned would love him and he could have protected from his nephew King Edward when he took her –as a price for pleading for his life- but a monster. A monster of his own creation and his nephew's.

"Mary must not be told you hear me? You hear me?" He shook her when she didn't respond. She gave a slow nod.

She was too distraught by what she had faced. Her nephew, now she knew when she had gazed at him knowing the way he laughed and grinned could have only come from her Uncle, his true father, Thomas Seymour._ Papa _–she thought.

"If your mother asks you beat Orion, you made him angry and as for Anne, something will be worked out." He said helping her stand. He dismissed the physician and helped her to one of the spare rooms in his apartments. "Stay there and don't come out." She nodded feeling nothing but anguish as her sister, her big protector was gone and the child still lived.

There was no greater injustice in the world. That incestuous creature alive and Marcus and Mary oblivious of it as the rest of the court, and her sister dead.

Mundi visited her, her younger and eldest of the Somerset brothers visited her after her mother cried her grief over her eldest daughter's death. He had no tears for her, he greeted her with cold, sharp glares and occasionally he would threaten her putting his hand on his sheath where he had his dagger.

"My sister," he greeted, "I wish it had been you who drowned when Anne pushed you and took her with you. You would have spared us a lot of grief." She looked away, hiding her tears. "Since you came into this world you've cause nothing but pain, your birth was a shameful thing, the only good thing that came out of it was father's union with our mother." He pulled her hair and forced her to look at him.

"Mundi-"

"Don't dare call me by my given name, it is a name reserved only for my sister. You are nothing but a Boleyn, if it wasn't by our father's blood cursing through your veins he would have killed you by now. Be thankful that saved you."

"I do love you."

"Who stayed up late with me and told me stories, laughed with me, cried, cherished my music when my father spent hours criticized me?"

"I was there." She said in a low voice.

"Nay," he shook his head. "My sister was there, my little sister. She encouraged me to write, she kissed my forehead whenever father made me feel little, she defended me when Anne and Arthur tormented. She was there for me while you sat idly watching your precious Boleyn siblings mock me."

"I told them not to mock you." She said. "I told them to leave you alone. I defended you, spoke to you in father's name."

"No, all you did was feed my ego, you saw me as a little boy, your puppet, whether you love me or not, I don't care. You and our older siblings are dead to me. The latter quite literally." He turned to leave but Meggie's voice made him turn back. "Edmund you say I am evil, perhaps you are right brother. But who is more evil? A man who used our mother, who seduced her while she pleaded for her husband's life? Who promised he would do everything to release him and then agreed with His Majesty to cut his head off, and not only that, he begot a child, a child he would not even acknowledge as his own? Tell me brother, who is more evil?"

Edmund closed his eyes. Did she think he was blind? Of course he cursed his father, he always had. He did not want to turn like the man who stole his wife's first husband's life and lied to her. He wanted to live the rest of his days honorable, pragmatic as he is, but honorable. Jane herself had been horrified when she found out the truth about her good Duke and his wife.

"The world is filled by killers." Meggie said in a sad voice. In spite of what he believed, she did love him. He was the only one of her full siblings she loved, and it split her soul in two hearing him speak to her in this way. "Our father is a killer, our grandfather was a killer, our late grandfather cut down so many people. My eldest children's father was a killer but he did not deny it. He whispered in my ear when he took me, this is the world you live in -We are all killers here, there is no one left in this world with their hands clean, you and me both have blood on our hands."

Edmund closed the door behind him. He went to his chambers knowing that his sister's words were true, there was no one left in this world with their hands clean, everyone was rotten to the core, including him for bearing his father's blood.

Honorable fool! He thought. Jane wrapped her arms around him. She tried to calm him but it was no use. Meggie was right. The world was built by killers –and liars –his mind added. At last he understood what his father's words meant:

_**Everyone who isn't us is an enemy.**_


	16. Chapter 16

**1563**

**Blood Red Rose: From Wiltshire to London Borough**

_Shae -"Why should I make up a story if I know the truth?"  
Sansa -"Because the truth is always either terrible or boring"_

On the spring of 1563 a royal messenger arrived at Wiltshire where she and her daughter were staying.

Kate opened the letter. "Who is it from?" Mary asked.

"It's from your Uncle he wants you back."

"Uncle Edward?"

"No, Uncle Henry. He wants you back."

"Why?"

Kate's face said it all. "You don't want to disappoint him, your Uncle will make no threats if you behave."

"I've behaved-"

"Not according to him. I know you love Marcus and I admire you for that but he is a married man and if his wife wakes up she will be his undisputed Consort, she will have him wrapped around her finger, if not her then the Queen who wants to see her son honor his vows."

"Margery might never wake up." Mary said, saddened that the Queen, her one time friend, could prefer that cold shrew over her.

"Mama?"

"Yes?" Kate asked after they were done dressing her. A not very tight gown so she could breathe and walk around with less difficulty. She had taken many liberties in her confinement, and all because Kate wanted her daughter to have the best comforts.

"Do you think that this is the price we're paying?"

"For what?" Kate asked.

"For what we've done, for our sins."

"Sins?" Kate nodded as it dawned to her. "Ah, Ned and his late wife Anne and you and Marcus, the Plantagenets-"

"Yes I know the Plantagenets used to take whatever they wanted without a thought or care to anyone else, our ancestor through papa, Edward, was exactly the same but most of them ended up mad or killing each other did they not? What was the old saying –'A plague, both of your Houses'?"

"You've beaten the odds, your children will never be in danger of inheriting or in the midst of court intrigue. You should count yourself among the lucky ones."

"But Margery's?" She questioned her mother. "Her children will be at the heart of intrigue and they will never be loved and all because of me."

"Nonsense, Marcus is a man and as al men, he was bound to look at someone sooner or later, besides Mary if you start wallowing in your self-pity you will hurt no one more than yourself."

She accompanied her daughter to the carriage that took them to Greenwich where the sleeping Princess was still resting.

The royal servants took their chests and one of them showed them to their chambers. They were modest compared to the Seymours of Somerset, but big enough for the two of them and more splendid than half of the other courtiers'.

Kate helped her daughter to bed. Her lying in was nearing and Kate feared for her life. She left it unsaid that she thought Mary responsible for her cousin's condition, not only her but the girl she loved more than her own daughter, Meggie. They took her heart and killed all the goodness or what goodness was left from her soul. She remembered her mother saying that no one was guilty, that everyone was responsible for his or her own destiny but Kate no longer believed that. She hadn't since she became a strict Reformer. It had not been easy leaving centuries old tradition but she had seen the light when she met Thomas, when he renewed her vigor in study and made her believe that she could marry someone solely because she loved him. Then again, she was not blind to her husband's wild nature, she believed she could tame it, and she had –for a short while.

It was hard putting a leash on someone who always enjoyed the lewdest pleasures, yet she loved him and when he died a hero's death, a part of her had died. Now as she returned to court, and was the victim of many cold stares and glares, she realized that what her daughter said and what she herself believed, was true.  
They were all paying for their sins. Every one of them.

Ned Seymour was paying for his. The moment he let his wife die at the hands of his brother while she carried his child, his first trueborn child and the only child she had ever given to him –out of love and necessity because she had seen his cold eye soften when it wandered on the (then) Lady Mary- he had condemned himself. And albeit Thomas never told Ned that it was by his actions that Anne fell ill and miscarried all at once, she always believed that her brother-in-law must have known one way or another. He was not a man to remain ignorant for long.

And on top of it –Kate thought, closing her eyes as she kissed her daughter's forehead and closed her chambers so she would sleep in peace- Thomas had lain with his brother's wife, he had even impregnated her, he had boasted but like all of her stillborns, the result had been the same.

Poor woman. Kate was not fond of a woman as hopeless as Anne Stanhope, but in the end all the woman had wanted, she remembered from leaning towards her husband, from resting her head on his shoulder, from passing her hands to his chest, was love. Same as Margery.

Sometimes she wondered if this was Anne Stanhope's revenge or some evil spirit had brought Anne and the Woodville Queen back from the dead to be reborn in Margery. The similitude was too much.

She watched as she roamed the halls, Margery's wolf, looking intently at her.

* * *

"Where is your God now?" Nor turned her head to her brother, Surrey.

"What are you doing here?"

"You know that. I came to see my loving sister."

Eleanor smirked. "Even when mother was alive she could never make you into a good liar. Why are you really here Thomas?"

"I came here seeking absolution and to pray that our cousin wakes up, same as you."

"You weren't the one that pushed the needle to her cheek or tried to kill her baby." She turned to Thomas and saw his eyes narrow. "Oh yes I've heard, you forget that in a court of whispers, our family is the first to know everything and besides, the Queen told me."

"The Queen confides a lot to you."

"Only what she wants. Half of her ladies are not as close to her as I am or Mary once was and even then she did not told us everything, only what we wanted to hear and only when we proved our loyalty." She added hastily.

"Did she tell you when my wife is going to be released from her father's custody?"

"She does not confide in me to that extent, in any case you should go to your father-in-law."

"I have."

"And?"

"He says the same thing you say only it's the Queen. 'Go to the Queen' he says." He glanced at her then at their cousin. "Do you believe she hears us?"

Nor asked, pleased at his sudden change of subject. "No, but if she does then she knows she can trust us." She smiled. "Do you remember when we used to chase her across the fields in Kenninghall?"

"Yes, she always mocked us. 'Too slow' she said. 'Tudors' don't act like fools."

"Aye but 'We are not Tudors' you replied. I often wonder if God is punishing our family for what we did."

"For what? Taking the crown from an unjust King?"

She shook her head. "Not only that, everything. The red rose took the crown unfairly from Richard II, then it reaped its own doom with Margaret of Anjou."

"Which was helped by the bastard Edward IV and his father the white rose of York, Richard Plantagenet."

"You believe those rumors?"

"Somebody did. Everyone said Richard did not execute his brother's minister because he lied about his first betrothal. Don't you ever wonder why they always called our line bastard?"

"If this is true and this is not admission, then it would make us the illegitimate heirs, all of us from the Queen to the lowest Tudor, bastard, including the Queen of Scotland."

Thomas chuckled. "Someone up there must have a wicked sense of humor then." Sick I should say. "Yet again who knows who is a bastard and who is not? Isabella of France was said to be a whore when she became Regent to her son, then when her son came of age, he strove hard to quiet the rumors and make an honest woman of his mother but it's hard to put a leash on a dog that you've released." He looked down at the sleeping beauty. "If she wakes up she will be the undisputed Princess, they will worship her, they will applaud her, they will fall behind her, she will be a bigger star than Marcus."

"If she wakes up." Nor stated.

"You are the one with the prayers, the faith … you should be the one saying she will."

"I don't know whether to believe in God anymore. Every time I pray I have the same image popping in my head, every time a different setting, but the message is the same –we've reaped what we sowed. Our rose is right to be red, we've stained it with the blood of our enemies."

"We are Tudors as Margery told us all those years ago. We do not ask. We take."

"And yet … we all have allegiances elsewhere." Nor said, holding back her tears.

Her brother knew better than to comfort her. His sister was strong, soft hearted but also strong and resilient, their mother's spitting image in every way.

"The blood whether York, Pole, guilty or not, is all on our hands and we can do nothing to remedy that, all we can do is pray that she wakes up, or else her son and possibly our future King could fall under the mercy of his father."

"He won't. The Queen will not let that happen. She's taken over his household, she supervises everything and her husband, Lord Chester."

"She may not be Queen for long." Thomas said and Nor knew he was telling the truth. The Queen had been sick of late, not an actual affliction, but was burdened by the affairs of state and possible war with France since the Queen Regent had died and Scotland was now under the control of a Protestant Parliament and the Queen of Scot's bastard brother presiding over them.

They left her cousin so she could continue to rest in peace.

* * *

Marianne knelt before Margery's wolf. "Come." Orion sniffed her hand and immediately withdrew. "Smart boy, you are loyal to your mistress." She said. He had passed the first test. He knew how to spot venom and knew who to distrust. Marianne therefore, let him go about his business and stand next to Harold's basinet who was clapping his hands sensing his mama's wolf. Nor and the Queen came at the moment.

"He is bothering?" She asked her youngest child.

"No, mother. He passed the test."

"Good, I will stay here for a while with Nor, Marianne please go and fetch your brother Marcus."

"I am afraid he is busy with other matters." Marianne told her.

The Queen pressed her lips tightly together then waved her hand dismissively as if she did not care. "Oh well then just go to Katherine, tell your sister I will see them at dinner."

Marianne nodded and curtsied to her mother leaving to do her bidding.

"He is very handsome like his father was." Bella said holding the child who smiled, grinning at her with the same grin his true father often showed his women before he won them over to bed them then discard them. "I hope you don't turn like him little one. He was cunning once and lustful once."

_He still is_, Nor thought thinking the Queen spoke about her son.

Bella kissed his forehead while the little Prince played with her hair which was puffed up and encrusted with pearls and diamonds as was the fashion of the time. She put him back on his basinet and canceled all of her appointments. She loved both of her sons dearly but both were failing at their primary duty, Charlie in marrying and giving the dynasty (legitimate) heirs and Marcus in his ongoing philandering with that Seymour girl.


	17. Chapter 17

**1563**

**This Isn't Control: London Borough, Greenwich Palace of Placentia  
**

_"I am a sinner, I am a saint. I am nothing in between. You know you wouldn't want it any other way." ~Bitch_

Ned pulled a chair next to where his daughter lay. Nearly a year and her condition hadn't changed. He fell asleep.

* * *

"_Where is your God now?" "Where is your God?"_

_She opened her eyes to look at her surroundings, she saw that same girl, that grown woman with the heart of a girl standing before her husband, defiant as she has always been. She pleads, she screams, she proves she is a true wolf, worthier mate than his auburn-haired lover. But no matter how much she pleads, how she falls to her knees and humiliates herself for the first time in his presence so she will see his love, it causes no impression. His heart is cold, it is beats faster than any other man's she's been with –but it is not for her. It beats for his lioness, for his intended bride. And she's taken his happiness. She knows he will never forgive her but yet she struggles to please him because deep down she loves him and yearns his touch, just as she yearns the touch of others when he is not with her._

"_That pup is an abomination to the laws of man and God. I will never recognize it and I will soon see it die than acknowledge it as mine." She begs but he doesn't hear._

_Go! Go! Margery tells the idiot woman. Go! Can't you see he will never love you? But it is no use, she humiliates herself further and prostrates herself before his feet, scurrying as he kicks her away._

_He is tired of you, can't you see?_

_It is no use, he sorry creature returns to him but before she can seduce him –as she seduced him when she found his intentions to leave her for that Tudor girl- he is out of the room and she is all alone._

_The scene vanishes and is replaced with another so similar. Marcus stands before her and screams her, showing more passion than Edward ever did. –Her first husband –in another life. In another time._

_It is all in the past now. Yet there are similarities. Marcus screams he rather be with Mary. This time a Seymour girl, pliant, submissive. The perfect angel, both her and her other self think. The perfect Lady, a woman who will love him and jump ship to anything he says._

_She closes her eyes and opens them. Before her stands her father, her husband, and one time great love._

"_I always wondered when my worst fears would be confirmed."_

"_Not happy to see me?" Margery-Anne asks in the voice of the latter, the same mischievous tone he was used to hearing when married to her._

"_No, that I was a poor husband." He confesses and walks closer to her. _

_She doesn't notice her appearance changes to one of his daughter, the girl he'd rather be in the presence of, rather than his cold shrew of a wife._

_He cups her cheek with his hand. It's warmer than she remembered. "Isn't it amusing, first your unloved wife now your unwanted daughter? How disappointed you must be in me."_

"_No, I am not. You did everything I would have done. In truth you were the best plotter and schemer I knew Anne."_

"_I loved you."_

"_I know."_

"_I sought other men when you would not warm my bed."_

"_Including my brother." He says but his voice is devoid of accusation._

"_Yes." She confesses. It was easier to be with him when I had no one to go to."_

"_And –she adds, "it was the perfect revenge but the last laugh was on me because his child was strong for my womb. I miscarried it just as I did your son."_

_A long silence followed._

"_What now?' She asks. "You won't let me return and even if you did I am not sure I want to, you have a wife, the daughter you always loved is as you suspected your wife reborn, and there is nothing for me to return to. Seems as if I am doomed to play fifth wheeler. First to you then to Marcus."_

"_Marcus is not relevant and my wife or not or whatever you are, I still love you."_

"_As your wife or as your daughter?"_

"_As both but more as my daughter." He took a step closer. _

"_I wish you could've loved me. How different things would have been ..." She let her words die as she pondered on the different future. "But you love your wife" she says before he speaks. "And you are right to love her, she is pretty. Go back to her Edward, we both know you want to."_

"_Not until you wake up. You must wake up. She needs you. In spite of your past rivalries, she loves you and she cares very little who you were, all she cares for is her daughter and if you die she dies."_

"_I don't know if I want to."_

"_You must. If not for us, for your son. He misses you and you don't wake up Marcus will take over his custody. It is only a matter of time."_

_Margery-Anne nod. Before she opens her eyes, she asks "Can I have a last kiss?"_

"_Margery … Anne …"_

"_Just one more. Please."_

_He accepts her request, it is short lived, warm but short lived yet it is enough for her. "I will be waiting" He says and disappears then she follows._

Margery gasped for breath as she sat up straight. She is handed a goblet with water and she drinks. God! Not water. It was one of the Queen's many herbal teas, but it didn't matter, it calmed her nerves. She looked sideways and saw her father.

"Ned ... father."

"Margery." He paused. Taking her goblet, he put it on the stool then joined her, sitting next to her.

Daughter, wife, she was his daughter now and she realized as he embraced her how much she loved him, not as a wife to a husband, but as a daughter to a father.

"Welcome back." He said tightening his embrace.

* * *

News of the Princess' awakening spread fast. Many were startled, among them Marcus and Mary, the two star crossed lovers who half wished she wouldn't and die in peace so she would let them be. But it was not so. Now that she was awake, as they suspected, she became colder and took every opportunity she had to mock Marcus on his performance when he shared her bed.

"I heard the most outrageous thing." Margery said one day as she held her son.

"Princesses don't do that." Marcus said as he saw what she was about to do.

"But I am not a Princess. You said so yourself, I am the daughter of a Wiltshire knight and a former Princess. I can do as I please." She said grinning when he glared at her. She pushed her bodice and corset down and let the little one suckle from her breast.

_How good it feels_–she thought._ To have something that is truly mine._

* * *

She took her earlobes and gave them to her Aunt Dorothy to keep. "Will you need anything more, Your Grace?" She asked as she watched her niece rocked her child.

It had been hours since Marcus had left and the babe, not wanting to part, remained by her side.

"No. Yes ... Wait!" Margery said as her Aunt was out the door. "Can you tell Meggie to come here, please?" She added seeing her Aunt's frown.

After a long silence her Aunt nodded and went to do her bidding. She came minutes later with Meggie. "Get in there girl." Dorothy Seymour hissed in her ungrateful niece's ear and shoved her aside. She closed the doors behind her and left the two sisters alone. She had nothing to fear since Margery had requested her wolf Orion as company.

"Your Highness, I am thankful for your recovery." Meggie managed to say, avoiding her eyes.

"Let's end the pleasantries Meggie, I know you are not happy to see me but I am happy to see you." She said earnestly.

Meggie looked away. She remembered when they were little girls and she had torn to shreds her favorite sketches and threw it at her face then dared her to eat. She wished that she had died from intoxication by the ink, but her sister was not born a fool. She knew what Meggie was about and spit the paper back at Anne's face. _She never raised a hand on me but I raised a hand on her many times_. And all those times she wished she would see she didn't love her and leave her alone once and for all but she always came. And every time bearing a present, a flower, an insignificant trinket that meant so much to her but Meggie ripped it to shreds. She wanted nothing to do with her. Now she wished she could take back all the awful things she did and said.  
She realized the reason behind Margery's constant bullying as a child to poor Mary. She hated Mary because she had what she could never have. Her sister's love. And for that, Margery never forgave her. She tormented her, called her names, every time as an attack to the love Meggie gave to her and deep down Meggies guessed she knew yet she did nothing to stop it because she wanted Margery to suffer. To know that this sister didn't love her, that she preferred meek little Mary above her.

"I am sorry if I ever made you feel less, it was never my intention. I always spoke to father about you, I told him you should marry Charlie."

She crossed her arms against her chest and turned her back on her. "Much good it did. You got Marcus and I got a cousin who thinks I am mad. I never got to raise my children."

"If it is any comfort sister I am not close to my eldest and I am also married to a cousin who rather spends his nights with another."

"At least you are a Princess. I have nothing. Everyone knows me as the royal whore."

"Who says that?" Margery asked angrily.

Meggie turned. "Need I tell you? Everyone. Your husband, my father in law, even your friend Nor. They all think I sold my virtue so I could be Edward's Queen." She scoffed. "If they only knew."

"Then why don't you tell them? Speak the truth Meggie. You don't have to be quiet."

"What good would it do? Father would never believe me and mother … she will think I am lying."

"Let me worry about what everyone says. Our parents will believe you. They want things to be good between us, neither of them wants this bad blood between us." Margery approached her, her wolf put himself between them growling at Meggie. "It's alright boy she is not going to harm us."

Orion didn't trust in his mistress' words, nonetheless, he did as he was told and stopped.

"Why do you like me Margery? I never liked you, I treated you horribly."

"Because you are my sister." Margery said, lowering her voice as her son wiggled in his arms, disturbed by the loud voices. "I tried to make you see Meggie that I didn't want your love to show off or to spite Anne and Arthur. I wanted you to love me because we were sisters and because you were the only one who held her head up high no matter what. I admired that in you."

"You admire me for being strong?" She chuckled as Margery nodded. "You got the wrong Seymour girl then."

"Meggie don't let this barrier destroy our friendship. Father didn't give you his last name but he wanted to. He and mama said how they wanted to acknowledge you as their daughter but they couldn't, it would have shamed both you and mother."

"So? Many men had bastards, I wouldn't mind being a bastard, at least then everyone would know what I was and not just another cuckoo."

Margery saw there were tears in her eyes and coming closer she placed one hand on her sister's shoulder. "Perhaps it is I who should be sorry first."

"You? Why? You said so yourself, you have _nothing_ to be sorry for. You are perfect, you loved father and mother and you've forgive me the sinner. What wrong could you do?"

A look of sadness crossed on her face that soon disappeared as she spoke in a clear and prophetic voice. "Twenty four years ago you were sick, no one knew the cause but your Uncle Thomas did and I confided in him when he came to my chambers demanding an answer."

"How do you-"

Margery didn't let her finish. "I concocted a mixture of herbs and put them into your fruit juice when no one was looking in hopes you would die. No sooner had I done it I regretted it."

"Anne?"

Margery nodded.

"But … how?" She sighed. "God we are cursed."

"No we're not. We were once. You don't have to trust me and I am not asking you to, but I do want your forgiveness."

Meggie glanced at her and pressed her lips tightly together. Here was the cause of her misery, deep down she would always hate her for taking her name but hearing her speak with such frankness she could not help it. She forgave her.

"You must hate me now though. After what I did."

"No, it's no more than I would've done if I were in your position. Well, probably not but that's because I've never been as daring as you."

"Stop it, you are going to make me cry with your useless flattery." She said and both sisters laughed.

Their merry moment was interrupted by their parents who suspected the worst when their Aunt Dorothy told them Meggie had been taken from her confinement in their chambers.

Ned sighed with relief. He glanced at Mary who gave him a meaningful glance and knowing what he had to do, he pulled Meggie away and took her to his study.

"I didn't hurt her. I assure you." Meggie said when they arrived.

Ned did not look too trusting but remembering his wife's not-so-idle threats he decided to believe her.

"Margaret," he said after he took a seat behind his desk.

"I did not hurt her." Meggie insisted. Ned held his hand up and she was silent.

"I know you did not. And I am grateful but that's not why I called you here. Your mother's told me you've been praying for my death it seems ever since I confined you to our chambers. Is this true? Please answer, I won't be angry I promise."

She nodded.

He sighed.

"Meggie, I really wished to have you."  
"You said you did not want me. You said that I was better off dead, that I should have died while in my mother's belly."

"Margaret, the words I spoke, I spoke them in anger I did want you. When your mother went into labor I whipped my horse so he would go faster so I could see you and your mother safely delivered. Your Uncle Tom was there, why I did not know but I am grateful now he was. He loved you. He really did. He took care of you and loved you as a father should." _The way I should_ –he wanted to say. _Tell her, just tell her. _

"If you did love me why did you conceive me then? Why have me when you were still married and my mother was still married to George Boleyn?"

"Because Margaret I was … I was …" _Tell her!_ "I was not an honorable man. I was not a good man, not even close. All my life I wanted power, when I served with Cardinal Wolsey before I was awarded the governorship of Jersey Island, I saw how others dressed finer than me, they would ridicule me, mock me and they would get the better posts all on account of their wealth and lineage, never mind that I was better than the whole lot. Since then I swore I would never be anyone's servant, I would be my own servant. When I heard about your mother betrothed to George, naturally I was enraged. I saw that as my God-given right. Nobody worked harder than I. But then when I finally saw your mother." He paused, his mind going back to that moment. He smiled. "She was the most beautiful thing my eyes ever saw but she was given to another just as I was."

"But Anne Stanhope was of your choosing." Meggie accused.

"Yes, she was but I did not marry Anne for love. I married her for her money and for her lands. She gave me a good standing in court and that was enough for me." He rose and went to sit in the empty chair next to her. He placed his hand on top of hers. "You must understand Meggie, the world is not a fair place. I learned that the hard way. You are nothing in this world without a name. No matter how much I worked, how much I strived to be better than the others, without titles, lands, and wealth I was nothing. My marriage did not give me titles but it gave me wealth, with our fortunes combined it made me somebody."

"You didn't love Anne?"

"I tried to but I was not a good husband as I told you. I only had one thing in mind, two after I met your mother." He paused again. A guilty expression crossed his face. "When your mother came to me to plead for her husband's life, I lied to her, I told her he would be saved for a kiss and it started from there. I seduced her, I bedded her and I was not proud but I could not help but feel triumphant every time I saw her and when I knew my seed had taken root in her, I thanked the Lord because that put me one step closer to her."

He pushed his chair closer to her. "It was not honorable, I lied to your mother and made her my mistress and I could have condemned you to a life of bastardry had I not convinced your mother to give you her late husband's name so that way everyone would think you were George's and neither of you would be shamed. But you were still shamed." He smiled sadly at her. "Understand this Margaret, I wanted to give you everything but I could not."

"You weren't good to Anne either."

"Nay, I wasn't and I lived with that guilt all my life until now. You must understand that I never had a child of my own, my first two wives had given me bastards and they did not live long. I never had experience looking after a child, I was not prepared for fatherhood and then you came."

"Your thorn." Meggie supplied. "You did not love me but you did love my brothers and sister and now you have my children, all of them, and you love even them more than me."

"That is not true. I love you all the same. If I could I would let you have my name but that would make things worse, not just for me or our family but for you."

She looked into his eyes, he believed what he said but did she? She remembered her sister's words of forgive but never forget. How easy it was for her, even as Anne Stanhope she could always be so practical, Meggie did not have that luxury. Yet feeling a lump in her chest as he raised his hand to her cheek, she could not help but throw her arms around his neck.

"Don't cry," he said stroking her back carefully, afraid she would break. "all is forgiven. I got everything I wanted, prestige, land, titles and power but I never got your love and believe me that is the thing I regret the most in this world."

Mary Tudor looked from the doorway at her husband and eldest daughter. She had prayed for this moment for so long and now that it was here, she found herself crying as well.


	18. Chapter 18

**1563**

**Spooky Town: London Borough, Greenwich: Palace of Placentia**

_"Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate and hate leads to suffering." ~Master Yoda _

Arthur received the news of his half sibling's recovery from his wife's relatives who served at Court. He traveled immediately to Hampton where the royal family had taken residence, the court with them. His Aunt was the first to receive him, gracious and charming as ever Arthur bowed before this great woman.

Margery was the last royal he visited. Arthur expected to find her the scared little lady he remembered from his last visit, but instead he found her strong, mocking and sarcastic. All Tudor and Seymour traits. There was even a faint trace of a smirk on her lips.

He curtsied before her. In her arms, the most unfair thing Arthur saw. The child she had conceived with her Uncle.

_Anne should have smothered the thing instead of entrusting the deed to Meggie._ But women. They tended to be very slow thinkers.

"Sister, tis good to see you restored to good health."

"Brother, thank you." She said in a crisp tone, pulling her son closer to her jeweled bosom.

Silks, diamonds and other precious gemstones, Margery wore the best. _The very best for the royal whore. _He thought. He could almost taste victory when one of her ladies came in announcing the birth of yet another baby boy from her husband's mistress.

"Leave us. No, wait! Tell Lady Mary I congratulate her on this day and to remember the jubilation every mother feels when she holds her newborn for our joys can easily be ripped from our bosom. Go!" She barked and the frightened lady scurried from the room to do her bidding.

"I am terribly sorry sister. How must you bear this terrible burden."

"It is no burden, I take what is mine, I give Marcus a son, he gives the crown bastards. It is only fair." She said wisely gazing down at her babe who giggled at the funny face she made.

"He has your laugh." Arthur said taking a step closer.

Margery noted he was holding a letter. Following her gaze Arthur explained it was a gift from his wife Amy to her.

"How is she brother? My lord father and I received alarming news she was terribly ill."

"Yes, she gave birth a month ago, coincidently the same day my poor sister died."

"She was my sister too, the grief is also mine." Margery said, her face hardened at one minute and softened at the next.

A true chameleon like the Seymours, Arthur realized. He would have to thread carefully.

"My apologies sister. I am certain she would not want us to fight. You have made your peace with our sister Meggie, I want to make peace with you as well."

"Why?"

"Why? Need I tell you?! You are my sister."

"Half-sister." She corrected. "Don't think I am blind to your schemes, I know that you whisper to Meggie behind my back. I am not the same child you and Anne tormented, I know you plot against me and our family."

Arthur gave his wining grin, the trademark grin all Boleyns proudly wore in their moment of triumph. "Poor sister, you see enemies everywhere. Might I give a friendly advice?"

"You may not."

"It does you no good to distrust in your family. We are family after aren't we?" His grin died down as her dark grey pierced his.

Her wolf entered at that moment bearing his sharp teeth as he put himself in between him and his mistress.

"I bid you goodnight sister." He turned on his heel and left.

Margery glanced down at her animal companion. "You could have bit him if you want to."

The wolf gave a tiny whimper in response. She smiled. "It's okay, I am not mad at you. Come here."

He hopped on the bed and rested his head on her lap. He loved the sound of Harold's giggles, a child's laughter always soothed the young wolf's heart.

* * *

"Margaret."

"Arthur!"

They threw their arms at each other in a powerful embrace. "God sister how heavy art thou, don't tell me this is the work of a jealous husband."

Meggie slapped his shoulder playfully. "Stop it. I like it actually, I can eat whatever I want and besides after four children you would feel the same."

He laughed at her self-jive and let her go. "Sister how I missed you. Since Anne died …" He paused and looked down at his shoes. "It seems like yesterday we were chasing rabbits and mother was telling us not to go too far."

"Yes, I remember. You were always the first one to return with more rabbits, and the first to reach mother while me and Anne got the short end of the stick."

"You two were always too slow in comparison for my handsome legs." She slapped his shoulder again. "Careful there sister, with your big muscles you might break me. I am not so strong as I was."

"Of course you are! You have always been the strongest of our lot." Meggie said, a warm smile on her face as she remembered those sacred moments. "How old were we? Five, ten? I can't remember."

"You were five, we were eight. And don't cut yourself short, you were very fast yourself."

"Not as you and Anne, I was always last." They both chuckled, their sadness over Anne's passing forgotten. "So what brings you here? Don't tell me it's because you wanted to greet Margery."

He grinned. "No sister though I did greet her on my way here."

"Arthur!"

"What? Can't I greet my loving sister?"

"Knowing you, you wanted something of her." She said crossing her arms against her chest.

"You got me!" He said smiling sheepishly. They sat down on the sette where one of her father's dogs was resting. Meggie shooed the animal.

"So what is it then?"

"What is what?"

"Come on Artie, I know you. What did you ask her?"

"Dear sis, I don't know-"

"Please Artie, please for old time's sake." She pouted making a pleading gesture with her hands.

"Oh, alright then." He told her the nature of his visit, omitting certain truths and twisting others to his benefit to gain her trust, he finally got to the part where he met with their sister and was about to tell her of his plight when her damn wolf had to come in.

"Don't be angry at poor Orion. He is just a beast, remember what your grandfather always said about beasts, it's not their fault, they were born to obey, on pure instinct alone, not to think."

"Yes." He recalled. "But he also said that pets take after their owners." He reminded her. "And you should've seen our sister, she was practically foaming at the mouth and that little bastard too."

He saw the look of discomfort that crossed her face.

"Don't tell me you've been taken by the little bastard."

"Arthur-"

"He is not Marcus' true heir, you told me yourself before you smothered the little critter in his crib, or have you forgotten that?"

"I don't forget but the wheel of fortune rises and we must rise with it. It was wrong what we did and I have prayed endlessly for it."

"And Anne? Do you pray for her as well?"

"Of course I do but like I said, it was wrong."

"Killing an innocent bastard was wrong?"

"Yes. The baby is not to blame for his parents' sins and it's in the past now. Thomas is dead and Margery has given the crown a male heir, we finally have peace."

"Except it's not a true Tudor, not really. We will never know true peace until we have a trueborn male heir in the Tudor cradle." He said. "Until then, we will always be at war."

He got closer to her. "I know you are loyal to the Seymours, they've pampered you, treated you like one of their own but you will never be one of them Meggie. Deep down you will always be a Boleyn to them."

"That's not true." She said, louder than she had intended. "I am a Seymour. They love me and I love them. My father told me the why he couldn't give me his name. He opened himself up to me."

"Let me guess, he could not give you his name because it would have been a huge dishonor to you and your mother, yes?" He chuckled. "You've been supplied with a lie Meggie, a mere fabrication, one of many from the good Duke."

Meggie looked away. Arthur put his arm around her and with his fingers slowly turned her face to him. "He doesn't love you Meggie, not like I do. He craves power, he always has. Remember how he whipped our sister's bottom and cast you out into the shadows. That man loves no one but himself and Margery."

"That's not true." She said wrenching free of his grasp and springing to her feet. "He loves me and he wants me to be a part of his family!"

"Yes, yes, because that would have meant shaming you and mother."

She said nothing turning her back on him. He rose and circled his arms around her. "A true man would have never abandoned his child and let her fight his battles. You gave yourself to King Edward so he would live and what did you get in return? You are the subject of foul gossip, and your father's hasn't lifted a finger for you."

He could hear her cry. "Look at me Meggie," she slowly turned. "You know I would never lie to you."

She shook her head.

He kissed her brow. "I wish only for your happiness. I don't want to see you get hurt."

She opened her lips to speak then closed them. She forgot what it was she was about to say. But looking into Arthur's eyes left no room for doubt that he did care and was only looking for her best interests.

Her lips quivered. "I-I …"

"Shh … shh, it's okay, I am here." He pulled her to an embrace and let her cry on his shoulder. It had always been easy to convince Meggie, not so much Annie. She had a mind of her own. "I won't let anyone hurt you, I promise."

"What is that?" She said as he pulled away from their embrace. He gave her a letter he said he had in his possession for many years and didn't want to give it to her for fear it would hurt her until now.

She was afraid to open it, afraid what it would show. She armed herself of courage and read at last. The shock that came through her face manifested itself quickly as she screamed, a wounded howl from a wounded soul Arthur reflected as he watched his sister sob violently and bury her face in her palms.

"I really thought …"

"They did not love you Meggie. Our mother convinced the good Duke to keep you because she could not part from you but he was willing to let you go. He wanted you to go over to the Seymours of Sudeley, he states it there." He said. Picking up the letter Meggie had dropped he read -"_My daughter Margaret will be a better company to my brother's children, they play, eat, and are as carefree in their nature as my daughter is. Truly I believe it would be best for me and my family if she is with them."_

"I truly believed …" Her voice down. Arthur went to her and brought her to him once again, soothing her with his voice.

What a fool she'd been! She'd really believed they accepted her.

_You've been played as a fool! Can't you see you will never be one of them?_ Arthur's words mingled with her own, echoed in her thoughts as he spoke of his plans to undermine the Seymours once and for all.

"Hush sis, we will get our revenge and when we do things can be like we always dreamed of."

Flashing a dangerous smile that left no doubt on Meggie's mind about his intentions she pledged to help him.

* * *

Following the first steps of his plan, she went to the Queen the following morning before she received summons from the Privy Council to grant her request. Her sister thought it odd that she wasn't at the breakfast table to join them as she usually did for these past three weeks.

She dismissed the thought and returned to her breakfast.

Before the Queen, Meggie curtsied and made her way to her.

"What brings you here child?"

"Aunt I've come to you with a request."

Her Aunt barely looked at her, she told one of her servants to serve her water.

"You are probably aware by now my marriage to my cousin is not true because it bears the stain of consanguinity. And I wish to end it on those ground and make myself a free woman."

Her Aunt chortled. Her ladies chortled with her. She rose from her canopy of state and walked in her niece's direction. "Pray tell me child who put this nonsense in your head?"

"No one Aunt tis what I want and I expect to get it. As your niece-"

"As my niece you have the right to plead, doesn't mean you will get your wishes granted. I am not your miracle worker. You want a way out of your unhappy marriage, good for you but give one good reason why I should end it."

"Our children, Thomas has plenty of illegitimate children and while I have given him two, a son and a daughter, he has never been faithful to me."

"Husbands are entitled to as many mistresses as they like. Why your platonic love Charlie, his father had more whores than I could count and I stopped giving two figs about them when I gave birth to Katherine."

"The infidelity charges are not for him but for me."

This took her Aunt by surprise. She looked at her with sharp eyes.

"I lay with Edward Your late Majesty before Her Majesty's rebellion, I am guilty of sleeping with him and falling prey to his false promises of releasing my father. As you know he did only after my Uncle visited him however the truth is much grim."

"Go on." Bella said, her eyes hard as tone and her face expressionless.

"My uncle God keep his soul came prepared when he came to rescue me. He carried a pistol and a dagger, the last one he used to kill His Majesty's dog before pushing the pistol to his head saying his niece or his brains but he wouldn't leave empty-handed. What my uncle didn't know was that Edward's seed had taken root in me and seven months later I gave birth to twins, the rest as you know is history."

All of the Queen's ladies were with their eyes wide open, as wide as saucers and if their mouths were not so small and their lips too thin they would have hit the floor.

The Queen spoke with a voice of frivolity, maintaining her stoic posture. "Is there anything else?"

"Yes. I wish you to grant my brother permission to wed his cousin, the Lady Elizabeth."

"And why would I do that?"

"My brother cares deeply for his cousin and worries that if she doesn't marry now she will never marry and wishes to do the honorable thing."

"Honorable would be coming here in your stead and asking for my permission instead he sends you, his little sister to do his bidding. How is that honourable?"

"Aunt, his wife is dying, Arthur wanted to come but he must return to her or else he will live the rest of his life in regret knowing he let his wife died alone."

"Aye, honourable Arthur, too honourable he sends his sister. Tell me child, if I were to grant your request, any of your requests, what is in it for you? I can't imagine you seeing you single, administrating your own home. You don't have the mind your sisters had. You might feel lonely living in a big house with no one to share it."

"It wouldn't be all mine, my parents would be joint administrators and in the case they refused Arthur would help me."

"So much interest in Arthur." She mused. Her voice as a siren's luring her into her trap. "What does he get out of all of this? If he marries Bes he will receive no dowry or royal titles unless he is after her lands."

"I promise you Aunt he isn't. I saw the two of them speak."

"Did you?"

"He promises he will ask nothing more if you grant him this request."

"Very well then you will get your annulment. Your children will stay legitimate -"

"Thank you, Your Majesty!"

"Let me finish." The Queen said holding a hand up. "You will be given your full dowry and I will choose the master of your household, as for Arthur," she paused. "I will decide what to do with him later."

"Your Majesty?" Arthur would not be pleased with this arrangement.

"Arthur will be given a suitable bride but in no way my dear am I going to hand Bess over to him. She will be given to someone of closer kin."

"Arthur is her kin." She pressed. "They've known each other since children and they are just a year apart."

"And I was many years apart from my first husband, that certainly didn't matter to my father. Go and rejoice."

Meggie curtsied and left. Blinded by her excitement she didn't notice she ran into someone.

"I am terribly sorry."

"It's no matter, my lady, the fault was mine." The young man said. He had light brown hair and dark brown, almost black, eyes. Seeing she was bewildered he offered to escort her.

"Thank you but I know my way around here."

The young man looked disappointed but not having the time to feel sorry for him she spun around and left.

She went to tell Arthur the news, he was not happy to say the least. But he will be, she thought. She got what she wanted and wasn't that in the end what mattered? -That she had what she wanted so she could be happy. And hadn't Arthur said he wanted to see her happy?

However Arthur wasn't interested in her happiness. He asked about the Queen's decision with him and Bess.

"I tried Arthur but you know how Aunt Bella can be but she promises-"

"Who is the Queen giving Bess to?" He said in a deadly voice, glaring at his useless half sibling.

She blinked. She thought he would be happy. "I don't know, she says to someone closer to kin." She tilted her head in confusion watching Arthur frown. "Arthur what's the matter? We got what we wanted, the Queen has grant me my freedom. She will give you a wife after Amy-"

"No you got what you wanted I have nothing but empty promises." He gripped her arm and tightened her grip once she winced in pain.

"Arthur you are hurting me."

He threw her to the ground and picked her up again. When she tried to push him off he slapped her. "All you had to do was plead with the Queen and convince her of my love for Bess now I have nothing. You just had to be selfish just like everyone in your bloody family."

"You're my family."

"Shut up." He gripped her harder then released her and motioned to the room behind her. "And get in there."

"Arthur-" She pleaded but to no avail, his tears only made him furious.

"I said get in there!" He bellowed.

Meggie never cried harder in her life but she did as he told her because she feared for her life.

* * *

Margery played with her little brother Alfred.

"Faster sister!" Alfred bellowed clapping as his sister's legs got faster. He couldn't understand that Margery was slowing down on purpose so Alfred would gain the upper hand.

In another life she hated children, now she couldn't get enough of them.

"I am running as fast as I can but you are much faster than me!" She cried back, feigning exhaustion as she finally caught her brother and twirled him in the air.

"I win!"

"Yes you do." She said with an open smile kissing his cheeks many times as their mother did.

"Eww no! Girls give diseases!" He said wiping his cheeks from her kisses.

"Is that so? Then maybe I will give you more kisses." She declared and washed his face wet with kisses.

"No, stop it! Eww!" But to no avail. Finally she stopped and decided it was time to put him to bed. She was about to turn left when she heard a wail coming from the opposite way that led to her half sibling's chambers.

She put Alfred down and told him to hold her hand.

"I want to go Margery." He said pulling her hand but she strengthened her grip and told him to be quiet.

He followed his big sister to a darkened corner. They arrived to their brother's chamber. The door was closed but in front of it was a sad figure hugging her knees, crying, and as Margery noted, bleeding.

As she let go of Alfred's hand, she knelt before the sobbing figure and noted it was her sister. "Meggie? What happened to you?"

"I am so stupid. I am so stupid. I am so stupid."

"Why is that Meggie? What happened, what did he do to you?"

"He promised me I would be free, he told me father did not love me. He showed me a letter."

"What letter?"

"Is it true Margery? Did father intend to let my ... father ... Uncle Thomas adopt me? Was it mother's wish that I remained by his side?"

"Father loved you, he didn't want Uncle Thomas to adopt you because that would've taken you away from him, from us." She emphasized.

She sniffed. "Do you swear by it? Do you swear that's the true? Maybe father has lied to us. Our mother always said that he was cold before he met her but truth is he's always been cold."

"Meggie whatever Arthur told you it's a lie and this letter is surely another one of his many lies."

"It's not, it had father's signature, I have it with me, folded, under my bosom. You should read it. Father calls me a nuisance. Says I am just another mouth to feed, that it would be better for all of us if I was raised with my cousins because their carefree nature is the same as mine." She buried her head in Margery's chest and wrapped her arms around her, squeezing her gently.

"You are not like them. You've lived with them, you've eaten with them, but you are not like them. You are a Seymour of Somerset just like me." Margery said pushing her gently away and cupping her face with her hands. "

"But the letter-"

"I don't care what letter said or what he told you. Our father would have never abandon you, he's always protected you even when you doubted him."

"No, he wasn't there for me when Edward held me captive or after when I gave birth. I've always been a nuisance to him. He said so after you fell ill, he didn't want me Margery." She echoed her brother's cruel words.

Knowing these thoughts were put there by Arthur, she decided to whisper more soothing words in her ear before taking her to see their parents. Alfred followed, not far behind. For the first time he realized the true nature of men, what he often heard Margery whisper to her son's ears that all men were black and corrupt.

Their parents were asleep so she took Alfred and Meggie to her chambers where Orion was watching over her sleeping son.

She vowed she would hurt Arthur for this, sibling or not, she would rip his throat and just as she threatened Mary she would threaten him. And he will know the extent of my cruelty.

Watching her son sleep, running her fingers through his dark wisps of hair she thought of Marcus' bastards and her threats to silent Mary. She thought about the many ways she would make her suffer but seeing Harold soundly asleep, the answer came to her at once.

_Enjoy your nights Mary for they will be your last. When you think you are safe and happy, and cradling those bastards against your bosom, I will see to it that you watch them die and suffer the same pain I suffered when I miscarried my babe.  
_


	19. Chapter 19

**1563-1565**

**Welcome to the New Age: Retribution: From Greenwich to Oatlands Palace.**

_"Life slips away and the ghosts come to play. These are hard times for dreamers." ~Bones_

"Father, Meggie and I have something important to show you." Margery did not give her father time to respond as she motioned for Meggie to give him the letter her brother gave her.

"When did Arthur give you this?"

"Yesterday." She said, wincing in pain when her father touched her face and turned her head right and get a better look of her bruises. "He said he had it in his possession for many years. He didn't want me to see it because he feared I would get hurt but seeing me so happy with my family he had to show it to me so I would know I was being deceived." She sobbed. "I-I am sorry … I-I didn't know what else to believe, it has your signature on it and Artie has always been there for me when pa-Uncle Thomas wasn't. I didn't think he would lie to me."

"Well he did." Ned said, more enraged at himself than at her that he couldn't have seen this coming. "Margery take her to your chambers, if Marcus bothers you tell him she is there under my command, and if he says another word warn him I am his elder and he still obeys me."

Margery nodded and took a distraught Meggie to her chambers. To their great relief, Marcus was absent.

Ned ordered for his brother's presence. He asked his squire to remain behind so he would listen to their conversation and report everything to the Queen. John was one of the few he could trust and a good lad, he would report everything he heard, word by word, to Her Majesty.

"John, take this to the Queen, if you are stopped by my stepson along the way, tell him it is for her eyes only and if he still gives you trouble tell him I will run a sword through his back."

John nodded and hurried out of the room.

"God's mercy Ned. The Boleyn twins had done us harm but never like this."

"It was not the Boleyn twins, just Arthur." Ned said, not wanting to stain his late stepdaughter's memory more.

As a strict Protestant and adherent to the Anglican faith their monarch, his sister-in-law, was the head of, he believed that every life was predestined. But could God, the same merciful and benign God every Englishman prayed to, have planned this?

Ned pondered on his younger daughter's words. 'God helps those who help themselves.' It was the philosophy she learned while fighting in the North against Mary of Guise Scottish forces. She won the hearts and souls of the populace who saw Margery as Katherine of Aragon's worthy heir. In spite of their different faiths, they followed her to the gates of hell and gave her victory.

Meggie could not do such a thing. She could not demand loyalty from her subjects when there was none. She was foul tempered and more often than not, she got angry over the littlest thing. In three months, she had to hire four different maids, and every month they came back complaining, screaming, and crying to him that they were being abused.  
He blamed her foul temper on the Boleyn twins. They created a foul temper creature when before there was none. Just one sweet, innocent girl yearning to be love. And that is when Ned realized. Meggie had always looked on others for support. Thomas had taken the role of her father while Arthur had taken the role of big brother, someone she could trust and depend on in his brother's absence.

"It doesn't matter, they've always been of one mind. What are you going to do about this? It will be your word against Arthur, he is not the scared little boy you took into your home when you married his mother. He is a grown man now and he's had his taste of power, he's not about to let it go."

Ned didn't say anything so Henry went on. "How long do you think he and the Lady Elizabeth have been in cohort with one another?"

Again Ned did not respond.

"Christ, Jesus, man, say something!"

Ned turned to his brother. His eyes were sharp as daggers. He caught his breath on an oath, was starting to clench his fists when the door burst open.

Mary had been riding with her sisters Bella and Bess when she heard the news. "Is it true? Where is she?"

Ned told her she was with Margery.

Mary swore under her breath. She would have killed Arthur on the spot when the Queen dragged them, him and Bess, to Ned's study, if he wasn't her eldest son. He was all that remained of her first husband, all that remained of Thomas Boleyn's legacy. Him and Bess were the only two Boleyns left and Mary almost wept as the Queen forced Arthur to confess his evil deeds.

"Why?" Was all Mary could ask joined by angry oaths from her husband and sister.

"You ask him why sister?" Bess asked, not believing her favorite sister could be so dumb. And seeing herself defeated, she was not going to get what she wanted now, she chose to reveal everything to Mary. "Our father and your husband's family worked up accusations against our family. My lady mother's body was not yet cold when father proposed to her. Your husband was given the largest rooms in Greenwich palace before they arrested your husband and charged him with treason, incest with the Queen and God only knows what else. We had nothing, we had to live in the new Queen's mercy and that was only after you and Margaret pleaded with her. For a long time we had nothing except ourselves, but at least I had the Tudor name, that saved me from years of misery. Your children had nothing except the last name of a family everyone hated and your daughter, your eldest daughter Mary whom you claimed to love had the first and last name of the great whore of Christendom. Did you think we would ever forget? That we wanted to be saved?" She scoffed. "We did not need saving, we need our parents that your husband's family and Cromwell took from us. But you never lifted a finger, at least Bella was honest in her blatant dislike for us, but you, you pretended to like us. You showered us with gifts, praises but deep down we were just another thorn on your side."

"I gave you all."

"Did you Mary? Arthur had to marry so he would escape his abusive environment, he never loved you or your husband, not since you married him and Anne was no different. But at least she had someone to call her equal."

Mary's eyes fell on her son. "How long did you plotted with Bess?"

"Since I tried to rid myself of your little bastard."

"Meggie?"

"No, your other bastard. That two face Seymour bitch. If it wasn't for her wolf, she would be dead already and not burdening the crown with an incestuous cuckoo, or did the good Duke of Somerset forget to tell you and the Queen that mother, that your grandson is not only your grandson but your nephew as well?"

He looked at his mother whose face fell but showed no surprise. He knit his eyebrows, and slowly realization dawned on him. "You son of a bitch, you knew."

"She is not the only one." He turned to the Queen looking stern faced at him. "Do you think those blood bonds mean something to me? They mean nothing to me, I only care for what is good for my realm and Marcus' liaison with that Seymour whore and her bastards will do nothing but destabilize the kingdom." She advanced to Arthur. "My father built this kingdom on lies and false promises but the only good promise he kept was to make his dynasty strong by marriage and sons -that, he always emphasized."

"So you'd rather have a bastard on the royal cradle than a real son of Tudor?"

"I don't care who fathered the little mite, just as long as he serves his purpose and that bastard is your nephew. I thought you learned by now the price of disloyalty in this family."

"I've learned that very well, when you dragged my father before the tribunal where he was labeled as a warlock and incestuous bastard. It wasn't enough to accuse him of fucking his sister, you also accused my grandmother Elizabeth of bedding the King therefore making my parents half siblings and me and Anne abominations."

"You are too dramatic. I did what was in the best interest of the Tudor dynasty, and if I had let your Aunt and father go, tell me this: Would they have been so keen on forgiving me? Would they have spared a second glance to me or my children? We mothers do what we must for our children. It's not a choice, it's not something we like but we do it anyways to preserve our legacy."

"Stepping over ours. That's not preserving your legacy, that's standing on the shoulders of others and consuming their work, sucking them dry like leeches. Me and Elizabeth intended to marry to bring a true heir to the Tudor cradle -"

"Arthur." Bess hissed warningly.

But Arthur continued. "I've battled every day of my life so one day I could restore the Boleyn and Tudor names to their true glory."

"And with Bess' popularity in the West you hoped to achieve it. Tell me how long before another pretender came your way, proposing the same thing to restore the Tudor dynasty to its glory?"

"There were never going to be pretenders in our reign."

Bella chuckled and roared with greater laughter at Bess' piercing eyes. The girl thought she could scare anyone into submission with those eyes, but they were no different than the petulant look from the whore. "Do you think the crown gives you power? Do you think it makes you secure? If that was so, why did my grandfather easily topple Richard of Gloucester on the battlefield after half of his armies turned against him under the command of his stepfather?"

"Stanley was a traitor but he was working for our forefather Henry VII. Richard III in contrast was a liar and a traitor. He deserved to be overthrown."

"Why? Because he was God's chosen?" She smiled, not too kindly when he glanced at Bess who glanced back at him, their hands joined for support. "You besotted fool. You've been growing too much under the influence of fairy tales and songs but life is not a song, life is hard and kingship is paved in blood. You Bess, should know that. Wasn't your mother's death example enough?"

Bess squeezed harder, Arthur could feel her nails digging into his skin but he gave no hint of pain.

"You want to rule Arthur? You will be granted your wish, you will rule over the wretches and commoners of your house, your household will be significantly reduced and as for you Bess since you and Arthur have plotted to convince me to annul Meggie's marriage, you will have your wish. You will marry and you will marry very rich. You will be a Duchess and respected, with luxury beyond your dreams. You will be known from hereon as Her Grace of Surrey."

Bess' eyes snapped open. She let go of Arthur. "No, you can't mean to marry me to-"

"Oh but I do. You wanted luxury, you wanted my crown, well this is the price you get for coveting what is mine. Your children will be moved a head up above Meggie's and I will give her complete custody over her children and as for yours, when they come of age, they will be sent to Bess of Hardwick where they will be raised alongside her children and stepchildren. The Earl of Shrewsbury will be their official guardian."

"And my … husband?" She could not bring herself to say it. She could feel vile rising up her throat as the Queen informed her, "George Talbot, the Earl of Shrewsbury, is a good friend of the Howards and the Percys, albeit Catholics, these have remained loyal to my reign and your husband I will create him a Duke and give him a larger pension than his father. It will be enough to pay the good Earl for his services."

Mary was shocked by her sister's actions. "Bella you can't mean this, it's unheard of."

"It's not unheard of. You were sent to Ludlow along with me and Margaret when were no older than our granddaughters. Bess should be thankful, I am doing her a great service. You will be one of the wealthiest women in the land."

"Tied to another." Bess said bitterly.

"A woman's destiny is always tied to a man, you should know that by now. Yours will be tied with someone that is not of your choice." Bella supplied and advanced to Bess, she rested her hands on her bare shoulders. Her gown had been provocative, like her mother she knew how to stir up the hot blood in lusty young men like Arthur. Her touch felt cold and her smile was even colder. She kissed each of her cheeks. "Rejoice sister, in years time when the Duke proves too ill to hold his title, the dukedom of Norfolk will pass down to his son, your future husband and you will be the premier Duchess in England."

She left the room and ordered Thomas Howard to be brought to her chambers. She interviewed the boy, in spite of Bess' poor opinion of her, he would not condemn her nephew to an unhappy marriage, she asked him if he wanted the betrothal to go ahead and he answered with a wide grin "Why yes, dear Aunt, what more gift can I ask but a woman of mature beauty and great intelligence, a scholar amongst her kind." then added that it would be his honor if he gave his old family jewels to her as a pre-wedding present.

Bella was impressed with the youth's attitude. Certainly old and wiser beyond his years. He would know how to control Bess.

Bess was married on the twenty forth of January of the following year. Margery was there to assist, smiling out of pity and love. Love for the girl she once admired and thought curious, and pity that she could have let her vanity get the best of her. Vanity, she found, was a trait inherent in all Boleyns and Howards, but she thought being the daughter of the indomitable Anne Boleyn, she would have mastered it by now. For was not that the art of the court? To lie, cheat, and steal with a smile?

It was a lesson she had learned very well under Queen Isabella. Her smile turned wider as the Duke of Surrey, her cousin and the now Duchess of Surrey kissed, a small kiss with little significance but Margery could see the faint traces of a smile on her lips and a deep scarlet blush that soon disappeared as the two of them got down from the altar.

They enjoyed the feast. Bess' worst nightmares were quickly dissolved the following morning after the consummation. Thomas was gentle yet he was not afraid to take what he wanted and Bess let him because unlike her cousin and former lover, she was willing to make the best of a bad situation. And the following year she found herself with child.

* * *

The Queen announced his betrothal a year later. What Arthur expected to be a pliant and submissive wife; he was sorely disappointed Margaret Compagni was not.

A two times widower. First married to Lazarus Allen and months later after his death to Giovanni Battista Castiglione. She was a cold beauty who was only interested in three things: Power, security, and wealth.

She pushed a lock of her dirty blond hair away from her face so she could get a closer look at him as he entered the bedchamber. Her large green eyes pierced his.

"My lady -" he started but she interrupted.

"There is no need for words Lord Ormonde, I know what you want. You want my fortunes and my lands in hopes of restoring your ambitions to crown your cousin, King Henry's illegitimate daughter Queen. I am afraid that is not going to happen. Not only will I control my own fortune as dictated in the will by my two late husbands, I shall also look over the accounts of your states and other properties you may be keeping from the crown. Expenses will be reported directly to me or my assistant, master Wilkins is that clear?"

She did not give him a time to answer as the doors opened. The Queen and ministers entered the bedchamber and ordered the couple to slip under the covers and begin the consummation. Arthur wasn't nervous, he'd experience the same lack of privacy during his first marriage. But this was different. The Queen intended to see this union consummated and so did he, albeit for different reasons. If he didn't mate with this shrew, the Queen would confiscate his properties, cut down his purse, and reduce him to a Baron.

"Begin." The Queen's voice cut like a knife in a cold winter, it made his skin crawl.

His wife however showed no complaint and placing her thin hands on his shoulders, brought him down.

A weak man with a weak seed, it would not surprise her if she got no son out of this marriage. But truly, that was not the most important thing, as an illegitimate daughter of one of the most accomplished Florentine merchants, she had gone through Elementary school and learned everything she needed to learn about household accounts, travel expenses and every other expenses she needed to know to run a business. And family -her father had told her before he sold her off to the highest bidder- is a business. Whoever gives you the more money, the more children, gives you the most respectable position in court, is the one you should marry. And Arthur was a man she could profit. If she was wrong, and she hoped she was, their children would inherit everything. She would be certain of that.

* * *

Margery asked her son if he wanted to play with his little uncle, Alfred. "I want to play with Sybie, she brings me gifts." He said. He always loved his big sister's company more.

"Sybie has to tend to her studies." Margery explained clapping her palms against his as they counter numbers, in Greek, French, Latin, then their native language. "The Queen is arranging a great marriage with her. Your sister will one day be Queen of Navarre."

"But the King of Navarre is three years older than Sybbie, he's an old man!"

"He is not!" Margery said chuckling at her little son's way of thinking. They stopped playing and raced each other across the maze the Queen had erected in the palace gardens of Oatlands.

"Mama!" Harold squealed when he surprised his mother from behind bearing his claws, as if he was a lion. _No, not a lion, a wolf. My black little wolf._

"My son, you are going to give mama a terrible fright if you continue doing that." Margery exclaimed bringing her hand to her chest as her son ran away and she chased him again and once again he came from behind scaring her.

He sighed. Her son was as wild as his Aunt Meggie had been at his age. -_And Thomas,_ her mind whispered.

Because he looked so much like his brother, her father took a special interest in this little boy. He faulted part of Thomas' attitude on his upbringing. As boys, he told her, they had looked alike, it was not until they got older that Edward's features became fairer and Thomas' got darker that their parents started to treat them differently. While the Seymour patriarch doted heavily on his younger son and repudiated his eldest son and heir, their mother in sharp contrast ignored the younger and favored the eldest.

Margery liked seeing her father interact with his grandchild. It brought old memories, from her life as his wife, to life.

Ned found them coming up from the maze, he greeted them with an open smile. He had treats in his hands to give to his favorite grandson.

"Mama says I shouldn't eat sweets, she says they keep me up all night."

"Well your mama can make an exception this time." He said looking expectantly at his daughter. She nodded and he handed him his sweets. He devoured him within a moment's notice.

"Harold don't eat so quickly, at least chew."

"I can't mama, too sweet, mmm, can I have more?" The little boy said, taking her mother's handkerchief to wipe the chocolate from his mouth. "Please?" He made a pleading gestures with his hands.

She sighed "Only if your grandfather says yes."

"Please grandfather, please?!" He dropped to his knees making the same pleading gesture.

So much unlike his brother Thomas, he noted. Thomas would have never for the best of him dropped to his knees, he considered it a sign of weakness. Even Edward would not have done so, this reminded him more of Mary and Meggie.

"Just one." He cautioned but the boy barely heard him, he grabbed his hand and pulled him inside where the banquet was being held.

Ned looked back to his daughter as if saying 'and you have to put up with this every morning?'. In response Margery smiled sheepishly.

* * *

Inside, Mary was crying. They informed her, her youngest son, Thomas named after her noble father, had been the victim of the plague. Mary cried that was impossible, he was well watched by her younger brother John.

"These things happen." Katherine said taking her daughter in her arms, consoling her. "Your son was born into poor health, he was always sick. Sometimes God's will is mysterious, even to us women."

"I loved him so much. He was fine last time I saw him. Marcus even came with me. He held him in his arms mama. He looked so much like papa." That was why she had named him after her hero father.

John had arrived to the palace of Oatlands to tell her the news, he dropped to his knees, unusual of a Seymour, begging her forgiveness. "There is nothing you could've done to save him Johnny, his death is not your fault. He was always a sick boy" She told him after her lady mother left them alone to speak, echoing her words.

She sobbed as she buried her head in his chest, weeping after he told her of his last moments after she begged him to.

Such a sweet boy and to the die in the flower of infancy!He was handsome, he would have grown to be another heartthrob. It was not fair.

"I want him so much!" She sobbed hitting her brother's leather jerkin as he told her it was God's will. No! I It was not God's will. It was _her_! She knew it deep in her soul, it had been_ her._ Somehow Elizabeth Woodville's magic had acted through her descendant, her cousin Margery. She knew it. The way she had smiled, danced and merrily engaged in happy chatter, including with her brother-in-law whom she rarely spoke. She had known of her son's fate even before she had.

"It's all her fault. It's all her fault." She chanted. Her brother tried to dissuade her, convince her this was a cruel twist of fate, but nothing he said could convince her. Margery had killed her baby, that was the only truth she knew and the only one she was willing to accept.


	20. Chapter 20

**1565-1566**

**Hard Times for Dreamers: Westminster Abbey and Palace**

_"Boy with a broken soul, heart with a gaping hole." ~MS MR_

Margery Tudor, clothed in green and blue, the Tudor colors, stood beside her father, five fingers curled about the hilt of his golden dagger.

Don't. His eyes warned. At the interior of the crypt, her Uncle's tomb lay. She felt nothing but pity for Mary, pity that soon dissolved as she emerged from Westminster.

"Cousin, you and I are first cousins and as close to each other as sisters, I truly pity you and am sorry for your losses."

It had been a great blow but one she resisted. "Thank you … _sister_." The words left her mouth sooner than Mary intended.

They returned to Westminster palace, a solemn procession. Her father was joking, telling her what a good job she'd done. She had not lost her temper as before, and she kept her dignity unlike Mary who, beautiful as she was, could not outsmart the smartest branch of her family.

* * *

Margery was the Queen of the feast now. The Queen was ill. Smallpox, many said. If she dies she mused. I will be Queen and Marcus will be King. And yet, as Isabella the she-wolf of France, it would not be long before her husband died and she stood as regent for the young King.

She looked to her son. He sat on his Uncle's lap, the Prince of Wales. He was bouncing Harold up and down with such easiness, and making silly faced at him. A natural father.

Her gaze fell unto her sister Meggie, she was looking straight at Charlie, trying to steal a glance from him, but none ever came.

* * *

News of the Queen's illness broke throughout Europe. Everyone was in a frenzy; especially France. By some miracle their King who had fallen years past from his horse on a jousting match and had his eye removed after a lance pierced it, was still alive. And he as his son, waited in the wings for the Anglican treacherous bitch to die and install Mary, Queen of Scotland, as Queen of England.

It was only fair. Married to the dauphin at fifteen, she was the sole (legitimate) survivor and issue of Henry VII's eldest daughter, Margaret Tudor by her first husband, James of Scotland. The throne was hers by right. And with the other Catholic powers backing her up, there would be no stopping her.

* * *

Isabella regained her health on the twenty fourth of January. Coincidentally on the day of her birthday. She had issued no will. "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger." And she felt stronger.

If that pretender Mary Stewart wanted to invade their little country, let the little wench try! She still had many tricks under her sleeve.

* * *

Charlie ran into Meggie. He had been avoiding her in truth, because he did not know what an encounter between them would lead.

"Your Highness," she said lamely, her head turning to the opposite side.

"No one is coming. All of my mother's guards have been dismissed."

She turned her head back. "You were always very clever." She said. "Why did you ask me to meet you here? You know me better than a back alley sally."

"Because I wanted to make a proposition. If my fair lady lets me, I wish to kneel before you, and ask you-"

Meggie's hands began to tremble as he knelt and took them in his own.

"to marry me." He finished. "Marry me Meggie." He shook her hand. Such was his desperation. "I know you love me and I love thee as well, I've loved you ever since I was a boy. My love for you has never wavered, I don't care if you gave children to that man. I swear to you I will be faithful and forget all that has passed."

She wrenched her hands free of his. "Charlie, I can't. You have an older brother, imagine what he would think, the great opportunity you would give him, if it was discovered you proposed to a one time whore and divorced woman?"

"I don't care! Can't you see I love you?" He gripped her shoulders and pinned her against the wall. "I don't care what my brother or the rest of England thinks. He doesn't care about England, since our mother abandoned him to our uncle Charles, he's never given a fig about this country. He only sees it as a nuisance, that's why he's supporting the Scottish Queen, to get back at my mother. If he wanted this land, believe me my mother would know. She knows everything." He brushed her lips. "Please Meggie, grant me this wish. I will raise your children and protect them as if they were mine."

"Charlie I can't –"

"Yes you can!" He insisted. "Look at me Meggie. My eyes don't deceive me, there is still love there." She tried to wrench free of his grip but he was too strong. "I will not leave you until the answer is yes."

"No, Charlie." She said, with such conviction that almost convinced him were it not for the tears in her eyes. "Can't you see? You and I are not meant to be. In the past there might have been a chance but not anymore! I was my Uncle's whore, I sullied myself with him so he would release my father. I am no innocent, I would only bring you shame."

"That's not true. You've proven yourself worthy, you've done greater sacrifices than anyone else in this family. I want you to rule as my wife and Queen."

She shook her head, turning her back to him, she said "No, I can't, I am sorry Charlie but I can't." then she ran.

* * *

The Queen looked over the state papers her husband brought her. There were many names on the list, many eligible candidates, but one caught her eye.

"Sent a delegation to Sora," She ordered her secretary.

"Who should I send Your Majesty?"

"My nephew, Thomas Howard, Bess' husband, the Duke of Surrey. Tell him to take Bess with him, I don't like her staying here unaccompanied for long. You will send another to Cleves."

"My lady but you said-"

"I know damn well what I said fool. After you give the orders to Surrey, you will go to my brother-in-law, His Grace of Somerset and tell him I have a mission for him and his wife."

She folded the two letters and stamped the royal seal on them. "Now go." She said, handing him the letters.

Her secretary bowed and hurried off. Isabella watched him go. It was time to put a stop to her older son and heir's infatuation with his cousin Meggie. She wanted her son to be happy but she also wanted him to be safe.

If she left Marcus as her heir it would not be long before he proved himself a good soldier and good commander like his Plantagenet ancestor Edward IV, but seldom military leaders prove good politicians. No, it had to be Charlie, if there was no issue then she would leave it all to his brother. Until then she would focus all her energies on Charlie, so everyone would be safe.

"Safe." The word tasted bitter on her tongue. _No one is ever safe._ Her father had taught her that. She had to secure Charlie's throne by whatever means were possible. A marriage with Meggie would not only the doors for Catholic invasion, it would also make her eldest son and Holy Roman Emperor more resentful than he already was. He would back Mary Stewart in the blink of an eye. She had no doubt about that. Currently, he said he did but Bella knew all her children well. Her son was like a mad dog, once he got what he wanted he didn't know what to do with it. He said he supported Mary to spite her, in truth he never would. Not unless there was a chance of winning.

She threw the paper with the other eligible bachelorettes on the fire. The others would do, she convinced herself. They were not from super rich countries like Spain or France, but they had connections with Germany, Italy and other places and in a war that could prove vital. It could be the difference between victory and defeat.


	21. Chapter 21

**1566**

**Game of Queens: Westminster, Chateau de Chambord, and Greenwich Palace. **

_"My dreams shall not be realized as I wished yet may I dream of some other fate." ~Princess Leia_

Ursula put the crown on her head. It was the ducal crown. One day she would be a Duchess. _Aye_ -thought she. _A happy Duchess._

Hearing the heavy footseps of her lady Aunt, she took her ducal crown and put it back. When Margery and her children entered, they hardly noticed its awkward position.

Harold approached her, tugging on her bell sleeve. She was the only one that still wore those outdated fashions. The rest thought her odd but she didn't care. She liked the fashions from the old days when her grandmama had been Lady Protector.

She took his gift, a red rose and thanked him for it. "It reminded me of you." Harold said.

* * *

News of the King's death arrived to England. After her sister and brother in law returned from Sora, not long after Bess and Thomas returned from Cleves, bearing the same bad news, she found out that King Henri, the second of that name, had died.

"How wonderful!" Bella could not help but cry out in joy after the new secretary she had appointed at her daughter-in-law's insistence, told her that he died of a jousting match that blew out his second eye. His mistress refused to leave his side but the Queen, now in full power, ordered the guards to take her out of the room and not only that, out of the palace, out of the city, banished from politics into a life of obscurity.

Bella dispatched messengers to their spies in France. The Huguenots would be content with the staunchly Catholic's monarch's death but they would not be too happy with Francois as their King. He was staunchly as his father and Catherine could not control him.

_It would be better if he was dead, if his youngest brother who is his mother's son was dead as well._ Leaving Henri as the heir who was neither from one side or the other, a neutral party who could heal his country's wounds and bring both sides to peace. Her lips curved into a devious smile._ A brilliant plan indeed!_

* * *

"He was every handsome." Mary thought looking down into Francis' still body.

"He was Your Majesty." The English ambassador, Sir Henry Seymour said. Hands clasped together he analyzed the Queen's movements, there was no joy or sadness in her face. Whether she loved this weakling and sickly boy, he could not tell. He was not like his brother, he could not read people that well, but he could hear ambition in her next words as she revealed her intentions to him.

Mary smirked. "Your Majesty. Everyone called himself Your Grace in the old days, now everyone calls himself Your Majesty by the invented title my grand-uncle first used." She grinned then the grin vanished as she remembered Francis' last days. "But if Francis is no longer a King then I am no longer his Queen."

"Do you wish you to remain Queen?" Sir Henry Seymour asked her.

Mary shook her head. "No," said she. "I want to be the Queen." She spun around. "Can you do that?"

"I can … Your Majesty."

* * *

"What is this new proposal my lord's brother brings?" Bella asked her new secretary as she shifted through papers on her desk.

"The new King of France is unwed and wishes to turn over Mary, Queen of Scots to us."

"In return?" She asked, leaning back against her chair.

"In return for your youngest daughter's hand in marriage."

Bella swung her head in his direction, their eyes met, neither said a word for a long time. She was the first to break their silence with a chuckle. "This girl thinks herself my superior but she is born of the same blood as I."

"The girl is a threat and her return could mean a disaster for both of us."

"Not even a month in office and you are still thinking of yourself as indispensable."

"Madame I believe my mind makes me indispensable."

Her laughter died down and she looked straight into his eyes, her eyes piercing his. "Do not be a fool Sir William, everyone is indispensable." Even me, but she dared not say it unless she wanted to give the man more ideas of grandeur.

Sir William sighed. "Madame I only meant-"

"Spare me your excuses Sir William. I want results. What does this so called maiden Queen of Scotland offer?"

"Madame?"

"If We were to accept the Queen Dowager's proposal, what would she bring to us that would be different from the rest?"

"For one, Your Majesty, she has Scotland under her control and other Isles that could benefit England for trade routes, and secondly her maidenhead is said to be untouched."

"And you believe that?"

He did not miss the tinge of sarcasm in her voice. "No, Your Majesty I don't, but it doesn't matter what I believe."

Bella looked down at the family miniature, her father's face stared back at him. Do what must be done -he said.

* * *

"Mary Stewart! I thought she was our enemy!"

"I don't like it more than you do but she has a thousand armies at her command and many in the North still see her as my father's rightful heir."

"But Mary Stewart, that Catholic bitch who plotted to have you killed! Mother you can't mean for me to marry her-"

"I do." Her mother said, her voice hard and firm. Her son shook his head and sighed. He sat in an empty armchair facing his mother.

"Mother think this through. If I marry her, how long before she gives herself of airs of plotting against you to usurp your position?"

"I have given it much thought Charles and that is why I've entrusted you to keep an eye on her.." She told him. "Besides, if she wants my crown she can have it but as a mere Consort not as a Queen in her own right."

"And meanwhile she waits in the wings for you to die, I will be Prince of Wales and she will be the fucking Queen of Scotland."

"Don't be upset Charlie, it's only a nuisance, and not a long one. Her people hate her."

"But you said-"

"I said our people in the North love her but her people are another matter." Feeble minded Scots, they never knew what they wanted. One day they were crying Hail Mary Queen of Scots! Come here to free us! The next they were condemning her.

He sighed and lowered his eyes. "How long do I have?" His voice was solemn.

Bella rose from the sette and went to comfort her son. She held out her hand for him to take. He took it and rose to his feet. "It will not be long. Queen Catherine's forces advance to Paris, they will reach the city by nightfall. It won't be long before she crowns her son King and hands over Mary Stewart to us."

And she was right. Frightened by the prospect of civil war, the Italian did not hesitate to crown her son King before a large crowd of Parisians. After receiving the holy oils, his first act as King was to restore the lands his father had taken from wealthy landowners and give the money back to merchants whose properties had also been seized by the crown on account of their faith.

Henri, the third of his name, promised to be a different man from his father yet his actions gave Protestants no respite. Until he wed his English betrothed, they would not have him for their King.

"Whoever knew of a King who succumbed to his people's will."

"Whoever knew of a King who didn't and lived long enough to tell the tale, mother?" Was his son's reply.

He would have peace in his kingdom. If he had to damn his soul for all eternity to achieve it then so be it. But he would have no one rebelling against him.

He accepted the terms Sir Henry brought with him and signed the marriage contract. He also accepted to visit his betrothed on her native land and marry her there under both faiths to appease everyone.

* * *

On Greenwich her mother told her youngest daughter to prepare for the French envoys, she wanted them to see her daughter wearing the best so their impression on her would be enough to convince their master.

"Are they coming soon?" Marianne asked putting on her blue gown, she would wear no green today. She had to be on her best if she wanted Henri of France to like her. She stared at herself in the mirror, she was not vain as her cousins were, but the occasional vanity would present itself for events like these.

"Yes, Your Highness, your lady mother say they will be here any minute." Sir William Cecil said. He did not tell her they were already here, but those were things a silly girl like her did not need to know.

He would have thought the daughter of a self made man like Lord Chester would have been more prudent than her siblings. He was wrong. Clearly Lord Chester did not have a hand in her education. Her mother did. It surprised him a man as him would not discipline his daughter. After all Lord Chester was a fierce puritan as he, he wore his wealth but in moderation unlike the rest of his peers.

But what more could Cecil expect from the Queen's favorite daughter? He didn't approve of such display, a good Christian daughter should show prudence and sobrierity.

Finding his gloomy presence unnerving, she waved her hand dismissively. After he left, she ordered her ladies to put more pearls on her hair. This was her day and she wanted to outshine every cousin.

She had been looking forward to this movement, the day they would pass judgment on her, deeming her worthy -or not -the doubtful part of her said- to be Queen.  
She had to play this right. She didn't care what came afterwards, as long as the King accepted her.

_You may not love your husband, certainly you won't love his mother but you will love his children and when the time comes to have wives of their own, you will hate them with the same vigor your mother-in-law hated you._ But that was not always the case. Marianne had seen how much her mother loved Margery. She took her under her wing, schooled her and taught her queenship, and put her on the front lines so she would know how to act when she became Regent.

Now that time was past. Her beloved cousin and sister would not be Queen, she would be remain a royal Duchess, albeit the Consort of a ruling Duke, one of the most powerful in Germany thanks to her mother. Mary Stewart would become Queen in her stead and her sons and daughters would be Princes while Margery's would be Dukes and ladies.

I wouldn't want to be either of them. Marianne thought as they put on her favorite necklaces. She could take on a difficult mother-in-law like Catherine Medici. She and her mother were almost the same and Marianne had always known how to handle her mother. Besides, her father, plain Lord Chester, Liam Stark had convinced her mother and her privy council that she was the only one who could take on Queen Catherine. Her oldest sister, Katherine Hapsburg was too proud and too hot tempered.

What she could never accept however was being in second place. That? Never!_ If I were Margery I wouldn't be playing second fiddle with the Queen of Scots, I would find ways to get rid of her, poison her while she slept or cause her a miscarriage that would permanently scar her and prevent her from having children. _She would not give her competition a chance of winning.

"One more." Margery said after her ladies finished, pointing to the small chest on her vanity. "Those two." She said, her eyes pointing to the sapphire and pearl earlobes.

They took the ones she was wearing to put on the ones she signaled to. They went better with her dress and they brought out the blue in her eyes.

The French delegation were pleased with what they saw. They wrote back to their master singing praises for the Queen of England's daughter.

Marianne squealed in delight when her father announced the King of France had agreed to marry her. "He will be here next spring." He informed her.

Marianne told her cousins the joyous news, after she left Nor turned to her best friend and cousin. "Doesn't it bother you?" She asked Margery.

"What?"

"You know what. You were going to be Queen someday now you will be the Queen of nothing."

"And why should that bother me? Who knows what the future may bring, I could still be Queen." Margery said with a sweet smile that made Nor nervous.

She wanted to ask her why she meant by that but thought against it. There were many things that she rather not know.


	22. Chapter 22

**1566-1567**

**Wonderland: London Borough, Palace of Plancetia**

_"It's not what I am outside but what I am underneath that defines me." ~Bruce Wayne_

Ursula turned her eye to her mother. "Grandmother says that I will have a new gown for Charlie's wedding, and another for the feast but yours will be grander since you are my mother and former Countess, and" She added with a smile, continuing, "a Duke's daughter."

The Queen smiled at her grand-niece. Lord Chester sat next to her, and next to him were her parents the Duke and Duchess of Somerset.

Meggie's fingers trembled, she nearly dropped her wine goblet. Her daughter watched her mutely as if waiting for a reply.

"Your daughter just asked you a question." Bella said, sipping from her goblet. Mary looked at her sharply but Bella paid her no heed.

"You are a King's daughter, I am certain you will outshine me daughter."

The Queen smiled in approval at Meggie's answer, yet she could still feel her Aunt's eyes on her. Ned looked to his sister-in-law, his eyes warning her not to say another word, but the Queen rarely paid heed to his warnings in the past, she was not about to start now.

"I am certain she will outshine everyone. You are growing to be quite a beauty, isn't she Mary?"

"Yes." Mary said, smiling openly, shifting her gaze from her sister to her eldest granddaughter. Ursula had inherited their brother, her father's, looks. Yet her eyes were dark blue just as Ned's, a true Seymour, Mary thought.

Ursula's lips curved upwards into another smile, this time directed at her lady grandmother.

After the dinner, her grandmother gave her a gift -one that she said belonged to her mother, her great-grandmother. "Is this really from her? My mo- I mean my Aunt, Lady Sudeley, said her mother Lady Maud, worked for her."

"Yes, your lady great-grandmother was a great woman. She earned the loyalty of many of her ladies and this was her most prized possession. Don't lose it." She closed her granddaughter's hand then motioned for her maids to attach the rosary to her silver belt.

Meggie and Ned were not happy about Mary giving her granddaughter something Catholic. It would stir up more, from the already brewing, negative feelings against her and her faith. But Mary didn't care. She always did as she pleased because she believed fervently in her faith. It was the only thing besides this rosary she had given to Ursula, she had to remember her mother by. She was not about to give it up just to please the stronger faction that dominated court.

Her sister in contrast was more pragmatic. She did not care what faith one followed as long as he or she pledged allegiance to the crown. Her crown. But out of convenience she had assumed control over the church her father had created when he divorced his mother to marry Anne Boleyn, and that his brother continued. Become its third and first female pope, she had continued her brother's changes but with major alterations. For one, she did not bar Catholics from the House of Commons as her predecessor's councilors intended, and she did not discriminate on other faiths either, but she was severe to those who refused to bend the knee to the new regime.

Mary kissed her mother's rosary one last time then her granddaughter's hand, and said goodnight. Her maids undressed her and helped her into her nightgown. All of this was very overwhelming at first for Ursula. She had been used to having servants who looked after her ever needs, but not like this. When she woke she just needed to say a word and they would be there, never running late, never making excuses. And she had the finest clothes, the kind she'd only seen in banquets when she was a child.

She thanked God for sending her grandmother Mary and Aunt Margery to help her adjust to this new lifestyle. Margery helped her pick her clothes, from the fabric her puffed sleeves would be made off, the jewels on her diadems, to her kirtles.

Margery found her the next day. She was surprised to find her very tall. Every time Margery watched her niece, it seemed like almost yesterday she was just a midget of five years old, playing with her on her bedroom, begging her to tell her stories of King Arthur and his knights.

"Aunt." Ursula said wrapping her arms around her Aunt.

"Ursy, look how much you've grown, now I am the midget."

"Nonsense Aunt, you will always be a giant to me." Ursula said, straight from the heart.

Margery pushed a loose strand of golden hair that escaped from her jeweled snood behind her ear and adjusted the diadem attached to it. "There, it's perfect now."

"I can never outshine you, Eddie says you are the fairest one to look on."

"Eddie exaggerated my dear, I am not as fair as you." Margery said poking her nose. Ursula giggled.

They giggled together as they heard Eddie's loud laughter.

"My brother, I swear sometimes." Ursula began, an oath escaping her lips. Her Aunt told her not to swear.

"But he's making a fool of himself." Ursula said shaking her head as her brother tried once again to impress another courtier. No doubt he thought himself the next Ned Seymour. Handsome and golden haired rogue. _Only difference is grandfather knew when to be discreet._

Following her niece's gaze and guessing correctly she told her "Your grandfather was the same when he was around your grandmother. You should have seen him, he told me. He could not eat, he could not sleep. He was head over heels for her."

"And you? Were you the same for Marcus, Aunt?"

The question caught her completely off guard. Was she? No, not in the least. Marcus was kind back then, he cared for her and she for him but she didn't love him and she suspected he didn't either. He said she was beautiful, pliant, that he loved her because she knew when to speak and when not, because she would make the perfect Princess -one who did not complain, hold resentment like his mother. In short his Eve and he her Adam to rule over her.

She chased these thoughts away as she returned her attention to her niece. "Yes, I was." She put her arm around her as the two began walking, making their way to the high table. "When you are in love my dear you will know. It can come today, it can come many years from now but when it does make the most of it."

"The Queen says love is temporary, that it only lasts very little." Ursula said taking her seat next to her Aunt.

"It's not, true love lasts a life time, I know how it sounds, you may not understand it now but you will understand it someday."

Ursula smiled, nodding her golden head. "I hope when I marry I become as wise and elegant as you Aunt, and I have a husband like Marcus." She said her smile widening when Marcus came to greet them, giving Margery a quick kiss on the cheek then moved to Ursula. It left no doubt on everyone's mind that, in spite of his philandering and his love affair with the Lady Mary, their marriage was a happy one.

Margery took her niece's hand and squeezed it gently only saying "I hope you find one too." _One who is all the opposite of mine._

* * *

"Meggie." Charlie found her in the streets of London with her eldest children at either side, the FitzTudor twins. They were chatting idly.

"Mother, you said we were going to be back in the palace by noon."

"I know Eddie but your sister wanted to see the new silks the Queen promised her."

"But I wanted to see my lady grandmother's chief smith. She said she has a special sword for me."

"He is not your lady grandmother's chief smith, she has many smiths and remember 'tis Her Grace, you mustn't forget the royal titles, _she_ won't." By she, she referred to the other woman he admired besides his surrogate mother Kate and grandmother Mary, the Queen Isabella.

"She doesn't mind." Eddie however said "She says we can call her whatever we want."

"In private, in public is another matter." She emphasized taking her son's hand before he ran off. Both of them were heads taller than her. It was to be expected, she thought, unaware she'd caught Charlie's eye. They are Edward's children after all.

"The Queen will not want you to get dirty, let's go." She led him out of the market, they were dressed simply so no one would notice them, but unfortunately one did.

"Your Highness." She and the twins inclined their heads down, not low enough so they would not draw attention to themselves.

"Lady Margaret what brings you here?" He asked, giving her an open smile as she let go of her son's hand. Her hands were trembling. Her entire body was shaking as he approached. One gesture and the twins were taken by his boyhood companions. "I've missed you." He said leaning forward to kiss her but she moved away.

"Meggie-"

"No Charlie please stay away from me-" He caught her wrist and brought her close to him. She could not resist the feel of his lips against her own. She felt herself melt by his touch, his other hand traveled to her bosom down to her skirts, lifting them up, and drawing his hand to her sex. She gasped.

"Do not resist me Meggie, I will die if you do. Give in, give me this last request, I beg you."

She gazed up, meeting his eyes. Dark blue met dark grey. How could she refuse?

"Charlie…" she felt losing her self-control. "I am not what I used to be."

"I don't care." He said brushing his lips against her again, their tongues met and sparks flew at once. He pulled away gasping for breath. "Grant me this and I swear to you on my honor, I will never cross paths with you again. You and I Meggie, we're taken by fate's cruel , but we can still be even if by a moment. I will treasure that moment until the day I die." He kissed her again. He did not trust the crowds from the market. His mother was known to have spies everywhere and her daughter-in-law, his sister-in-law, Margery, had Sir Cecil at her disposal, a man with more spies than anyone could count. Margery dubbed them his little birds after the name the Queen gave her.

He found an Inn next to where they were standing. He paid the innkeeper handsomely for two nights.

"Won't my parents and yours suspect?" She asked the following morning, perking her head from his naked back where it had been resting.

"Nay, your children will cover for us."

"Charlie-"

"Meggie do not worry. I have it all covered. You trust me do you not?" Charlie asked turning to face her, cupping her chin, rubbing his thumb against her soft rose bud lips. She gave a curt nod. "God how I have longed for this moment, I spent many sleepless nights hoping it would come true and now you are here. It almost seems so unreal."

"Perhaps it is." She said caressing his cheek.

"Then I will kill the man who wakes me up." Their lips locked in a passionate kiss.

* * *

"Do you think mother will come back soon?" Ursula asked her brother who was too interested hearing Margery sing. "Hello?" Tired of being ignored, she hit the back of his head.

"Ouch! Why did you do that for?"

"I asked you a question. Do you think she will be back soon?"

"I don't now." He shook his head. "Aunt Margery says she will give them an extra day, our mother has never enjoyed great health, so everyone will buy another day of sickness."

She cocked her hear, her eyebrows knit. "You told Aunt Margery?" How did she not know this? She always knew everything, Arthur always confided in her.

"Yes, why shouldn't I? Besides she is the one who came up with the idea of the market."

Ursula's eyebrows knit further. "You mean … she knew mother would fuck the Prince of Wales?"

"Ursy, don't say that word."

"What? Fuck? Everyone says it, and Aunt Margery says I shouldn't be afraid to speak my mind." She took a grape from the bowl of fruits at the table. "I am quite surprised that Aunt Margery planned this, what is you suppose, her intention?"

Eddie shrugged. "I don't know, for all we know she does care."

Ursula was about to say 'not likely' when her mind raced back to her Aunt comforting their mother every night, tending to her needs instead of her own children and crying with her as they told each other their deepest sorrows and their biggest regrets in life. Eddie might be right. Her Aunt Margery was known for her charitable spirit and caring too much for her family. Aye, sometimes too much.

If she was Duchess, she would not give a fig about her family. Not when they endanger me. She heard all sorts of stories of her mother, but she only believed the ones she and her Aunt Margery told her, and Ursula was appalled to see that after everything her mother had done, Margery still loved her sister and even before she blacked out on the day of her labor, she asked her lady mother for her sister.

Ursula only had one brother and she loved him dearly but if he tried something, she would stop loving him, simple as that.

Margery stopped dancing and came to greet them at the high table. Her four year old son and four daughters were not far behind. They were giggling and teasing each other. She sat next to Ursula and asked her if she wanted to lead the next dance. This surprised her. Everyone expected the Queen's daughters or the Queen herself to lead the dances, not some bastard girl but the Duchess of York was so insistent that she won Ursula over. She agreed and together with her Aunt Margery, sibling, and cousins were led to the center of the room where everyone made space so they could witness them dance.

They applauded afterwards and Ursula saw the applause was directed at her not at Margery whom she thought had danced far better than she. "See? They love you." Margery whispered in her ear applauding to her as well. "Wave at them, I have something special for you in my chambers."

Ursula looked questioningly at her Aunt but dared not ask her in front of all these people. She waited until the feast ended.

Her Aunt took from her hope chest something, she said, belonged to her mother and something she and her mother decided should be passed on to her.

"What is it?" Ursula asked, her brow furrowed, anticipation cursing through her veins.

"Wait and see." Margery said with a cryptic smile as she closed her hope chest. She unwrapped the cloth around the jewel and showed it to Ursula.

Ursula gasped, she brought her hand to her mouth. "Aunt this is … beautiful but I cannot accept it."

"Yes you can." Margery said quieting her thoughts, putting the necklace on her. "It looks more beautiful on you then it did on me or your mother."

"This belonged to my mother?"

"No, it belonged to all the women in our family. We passed it from one to another on our wedding day, call it a silly tradition. My mother believed it would keep us close no matter where we went, and she was right. Now it is all yours so you will pass it to your daughters and they will pass it to theirs."

"Thank you lady Aunt." Ursula said and threw her arms around her kneeling Aunt's neck.

Margery closed her eyes. Ursula was everything she always wanted in a daughter. _It's a shame she is not mine._ Her sister was very fortunate in having her. Even though they were conceived in violence, they had nothing of their father in them and they were the greatest children a mother could ask for. _Especially Ursula._

* * *

Meggie's legs were tired from their lovemaking. "It's a miracle I can walk!" She cried when they reached Greenwhich.

Charlie put a finger to his lips. Everyone was asleep in their bed or someone else's, her cries had been loud enough to wake the dead, yet there was no sign anyone had heard. They were greeted with the same silence when they reached the upper floors, reaching her chambers at last.

"Thank you so much for escorting me home."

"This is your home now Meggie, I will never let you go."

"Charlie-" She started but he interrupted with a kiss.

"I said I would not cross paths with you willingly and I won't but you can't stop the wheel of fortune from rising and falling, who knows what fate may yet bring us." Giving her one last kiss he smiled. "Farewell Meggie, you've made me the happiest man on Earth." Then he left her for good.

* * *

"What do you think of Mary Stewart?"

When she didn't respond Marianne went on. "I think she's fair, very fair, our brother will like her very much."

"He did not seem to mind her much at the feast." Nor intervened. Her eyes rested at her jeweled fingers. Another year and no marriage. What kind of life was this? All her cousins married except her. She would end up an old washed up maid. If she ever got married she would be like her Aunt Anne, unable to give a son and only a daughter, a weak, sickly daughter.

Marianne caught her soured look and rubbed her back. Sometimes Margery was amazed at how well Marianne could dissimulate happiness. She was sure an independent woman like her who liked to ran her household, had her own servants and maids to do her every bidding, would not give that up for marriage. Yet she was her mother's daughter, and had a bit of her father, Lord Stark in her. The man was always kind to his wife's family, Margery remembered him as her favorite uncle who always snuck sweets for her when her mother said she could not have more. Out of all their in-laws, Margery loved him the most, but she was also keenly aware of the man's ambition and like every man he had passed on his ambitions on his only child.

"He was too busy looking at Margery's sister." Nor said.

"But that will change." Marianne said hesitantly, her lips twitching. Her smile almost faded. "I think this new gown needs some reparations, mother says that I will get to wear my Princely crown on my head, what do you think sister? Do you think I should wear it or is that too ostentatious?"

Margery did not respond. She did not enjoy others talking ill of her sister. Even if Nor's intentions were good to spite Marianne, they didn't sit well with Margery.

"Excuse me." She said and left the two bickering girls in her chambers. She needed to breath the clean fresh air from the orchards. She found her son there playing with his cousin Ursula. The two had been very close as of late.

"Mommy! Mommy! Look what Lady Ursula gave me."

"My little wolf you can call Ursula Ursy, she doesn't mind. Do you niece?"

Ursula shook her head, the perfect little girl, beautiful, smart, doe eyed, fair skin, and doe eyed. If her son wasn't who he was, she would personally pick Ursula as his mate.

Mary Stewart showed little animosity to the Prince of Wales, his mother was another matter. She didn't let her walk, eat, or do anything she liked without permission. The Queen had a tight hold on her and with her ladies dismissed and gone back to Scotland, she could hardly do anything she wanted. The only times she had peace was when she was with Margery.

Margery found the Scottish Queen regnant's presence quite enjoyable. She wasn't as plain spoken and charmingly hypocrite as Marianne, but straightforward and genuinely charming as her sister had once been.

Thinking of her sister Margery could not help but feel a pang of sadness. She had given Meggie what she wanted, a moment's happiness with the man she loved. _Now she has to content herself with the memory every time she sees them together._

_The Prince and Queen. _Meggie had no choice. When she saw them together her stomach would turn upside.

Months after they lay together, she came across a proposal –one of many- from a young Irish man who wished to marry her, not for duty or for love but simply for companionship. She was about to say no when she had an unexpected surprise. She remembered telling Charlie about it. His reaction had been one she had already seen coming. She tried to convince Charlie not to break the engagement but nothing she could say could dissuade him. She had to go to her sister Margery, to convince him.

It had not been easy. Margery and Charlie had a terrible row, but she managed to convince him in the end.

"Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?" The priest asked the groom, Lord Westleight, Alexander Bolger. A Marquis in his own right, he was one of the wealthiest men in England and Ireland.

_He is very handsome too._ Meggie observed after the ceremony, looking at her husband for the first time. _And very good with children_. He had taken an instant liking at her children, although four years younger, he looked at her with great devotion as a man to a great goddess.

She wasn't fond of devotion, it always drove men mad, but she liked having a companion who was handsome and caring and had enough money to support her and her children, as well as the little one waiting in her belly.


	23. Chapter 23: Epilogue: Take What Is Ours

**1567-1604**

**Take What Is Ours: England, France, Bavaria and to England again.**

_"You know that one that suits you to the places where all ends meet yeah. No change, I can change, I can change, I can change but I'm here in my mold I am here in my mold. But I am a million different people from one day to the next I can change my mold." ~The Vere_

Eddie could barely hide his gaze from the Queen of Scots. So this was she. He had been sick for the last weeks, he had not even gone to his mother's wedding but now he was here and could not help but gawk at the beauty his Uncle had.

_Damn him_ -he thought. _All the royals get the best treats_. When would he have someone as beautiful as she? He wondered. Not wanting to concern himself with such matters, he walked away from the feast unnoticed by his peers.

The Queen sent his sister after him, but she was too entranced by the glamour of the ball to care or obey her Aunt's commands. In the end it was up to Ned.

"Where do you?"

"Nowhere, I am just a bit angry that's all. Uncle gets a beautiful wife while I get nothing."

Ned chuckled and swung his arm around his grandson. "You are sixteen years old, you will get your chance to celebrate. Today is your Uncle's time, let him celebrate besides you are going to have a new cousin and brother soon."

"Yes I know but it doesn't make it easier, I mean what if mother ..." He couldn't finish.

"You are worried your mother will love her next child more than you?"

He nodded. "Your mother loves you more than life itself. She wanted to keep you, you know. Even before me and your grandmother were aware of your identities, she would always visit your cradles just to make sure you were breathing."

"Then why didn't she visit me more often? Every time she was with us she was always … sad and then mama Kate would always tells us to go back. I just don't understand how she could be so sad, she was free of that monster, she was with a man that loved and respected her. She had wealth, power, children of her own. Why couldn't she be happy?"

"I am afraid you'll have to ask her that question yourself Eddie. But one thing you mustn't doubt is her love for you. She speaks of you even today. She talked to the Queen of having your pick amongst the ladies for next summer's play."

"I will be free to choose then?" Ned nodded. "Have you seen the ladies?"

"Yes, I have. They are very fair if that is what you are wondering."

Eddie grinned, he had not given serious thought about his own engagement until now. He had not know a woman's love, but he knew enough of carnal passions from what his favorite Uncle, Marcus told him. And his Uncle Marcus was never wrong. Eddie idolized him. He wished he could grow up to be like him.

* * *

While both Edwards were discussing the younger Edward's prospective bride, Marcus was looking steadily into his wife's eyes.

She looked questioningly at him. She did not wish to be here next to him. She thought his whore would keep him busy but apparently her cousin Mary was too busy praying again.

The hypocrite. There was nothing Margery despised more than hypocrisy. Her own was no match for Mary's, Mary excelled at that perfectly.

Edmund and his wife joined his sister in hopes of distracting her. They took her away from Marcus' company and down to their table. Jane was holding their only surviving daughter's hand, Janey Marie, named after both her grandmother and Aunt, the Princess of Wales and Queen of Scotland, Mary Stewart who preferred all things French.

Mundi could not help to show off his daughter to his sister. He knew how much his sister loved all things beautiful and his sweet Janey was that and more. She was smart as her mother and someday -he boasted- she would make a great scholar.

Nature has done her wrong, Margery commented, making her a woman. Women could only aspire to be scholars while married to other scholars. It was every woman's fate to be married or enter a convent. This niece of hers, her fate would be no different.

Arthur joined them, his wife had her arm linked around his. Behind her was Arthur's son by his late wife Amy, followed by his youngest son Giovanni, named after his maternal grandfather.

Edmund could not help the sneer on his face when he and Margery remarked how well the falcon had been tamed.

"Suits you well I suppose, canines were always content being wild and ferocious creatures." Stealing from others -his meaning was clear.

But Mundi and Margery did not show that they cared, they hid their emotions better than their Boleyn sibling. They were after all wolves, and wolves were good at dissimulating, at being patient, at watching from afar before attacking their prey.

Her wolf was beside her, Arthur noted. And next to it was another wolf, a black pup Margery claimed was her wolf's pup. Just who was the bitch who bore this hell's spawn? His thoughts were chased away by his wife clearing his throat. She knelt before Margery's golden wolf and cocked her head sideways, almost as if asking its permission to touch his cub. The wolf stepped away and her cub walked right towards her.

She petted his dark head. "He is beautiful, what's his name?"

"A she." Margery said. Her half-brother's wife perked her head up, she blinked twice.

"She?" She asked and Margery nodded once again. "What's her name?"

Margery gestured to her brother Mundi. "My Janey and her cousin, Lord Harold name her. Didn't you poppet?" Janey nodded, sticking her chin out proudly the way her mother told her. She had her dark brown hair and dark grey eyes, but the rest of her features were like her father's. "Go on tell them what you and cousin Harold named her."

"Matilda." Janey said proudly.

"Matilda?" Arthur queried. He could not help the chuckle that escaped his lips. "Such a strong name, very dangerous. I thought it was a name they taught all girls to fear."

Edmund and his wife were about to respond when Margery and Janey intervened. "Matilda is a strong name my lord Uncle. Matilda single handedly won the crown for her son and was the first woman to be almost crowned Queen of England and she was first Lady of the English. There is no lady greater than she, right Aunt?"

"That's right. She was the only woman brave enough to stand up to men's egos. I say if all men were smart, they would teach their daughters about her instead of the demure religious women. It doesn't profit a man to have a stupid daughter."

The barb hit home. Arthur held his wife's hand and together, they excused themselves and departed from the Hall.

Mundi and Margery looked at each other with glee. They'd clipped the falcon's wings. Marcus came to join them and Jane and Edmund took this as their cue to leave.

Margery wanted to go with them but knowing that would bring unwanted attention she stayed. His words surprised her. He never spoke to her in a kind manner. Not since they were children.

Not wanting to cause a scene she accepted Marcus' proposal and politely retired -with the Queen's permission- to their chambers.

"What is it you want Marcus? I was having a great time watching our favorite niece dance with our son."

"That's not what I've called you here." He said knowing what she was thinking.

"Why have you called me here then?"

"I want to apologize to you. The way I've acted, you've been faithful to me, you even defended me from the accusations of the Northern Catholics, you fought my mother's wars and you've even stood by Mary, defending her as well even though it was not your right to do so."

"I only do what is required of me, I speak when you tell me to, and I reply when you gave me permission just as every other wife in my position would."

"No, not every other wife." Marcus said advancing to his wife. He took her shoulders and leaned down to kiss her lips. "I've hurt you deeply."

"Yes you have." She wanted to say but instead she opted for silence.

"Margery please say something, be the valiant spirited girl you once were, the one I fell in love with."

_Oh Marcus if you knew, that girl is gone, replaced by the harpy you see now._ If he only knew what she'd done he would never forgive her. Yet she chose to take advantage of the situation, betrayal on her lips as she said, "That girl is no more. You killed it, same as I killed the man you were."

She was mixing half truths with lies and it was not all a lie. She had killed Marcus, same as when she'd killed Edward's love by choosing him over everyone else. It didn't matter what future she was born into, she always chose ill.

And yet, every path she chose led her back to Edward.

_Edward._

A smile danced on her lips. Her father, her great love, her one time husband, he would always be the man her heart belonged to but she was content that fate had found a way to bring her back into his midst as his daughter. She gazed up at Marcus and narrowed her eyes as if looking at him for the very first time.

He was handsome. Not as handsome as Edward, but definitely handsome. He had a warrior's build, the kind Edward and Thomas could never have, and he had grown a beard that made him look more masculine.

He tipped her chin. Sensing her insecurities, he leaned forward and took her lips again. Swayed by the warmth of his kiss, she twined her arms around his neck, and brought their bodies together.

She'd never felt happier and more complete as she did now, lying in his arms. One body struggling against the other for control. Eventually she won, but it was a short lived victory. He was stronger but he wasn't rougher as he'd been before.

She gasped feeling him come and threw her head back, moaning and later screaming his name as she entered into a state of pure ecstasy.

Marcus! Marcus! She thought. She could think of nothing else. In that night she gave herself body and soul to him and from now on the part of her that clung to her old life ceased to exist and there was only Margery Wittelsbach, wife of the Duke of Bavaria and lady of York.

* * *

The Queen arrived on the twenty first of May. Spain was in an uproar. They made their bets England would not have a son by next spring but Providence proved them wrong. A month before the French Queen Dowager's and her son's arrival, James Henry Hapsburg Tudor was born.

Weighing more than the average baby, proving that he was healthy, he brought joy to the House of Tudor. A baby boy that would one day be King, not only of England but Scotland as well, bringing the two kingdoms together. It would be a long day before that happened but there was joy in every kingdom of the British Isles. For the first times since the Roman Empire, their country would be one. A United Kingdom.

Marianne prepared to receive the French delegation. This was better than she expected. She had caused a great impression on the French Queen Dowager who saw her as docile, beautiful, an unintelligent. Someone she could control very easily.

She would be proven wrong. Her son Henri was unlike his youngest sibling who had accompanied his older brother, King Francois II to the grave. Henri would not let himself be controlled by his mother. He was an independent thinker, a man who styled himself a warrior and a renaissance King as his father, but who unlike his father did not steal from the poor and infuriate the growing middle class and Protestant population with excessive taxes. He showed favor to no one in particular and that was how he maintained himself in power and kept his people from rebelling against him.

Marianne quickly settled herself in the French Court. Everyone wanted to see her. The daughter of the man who was born a nobody and got to the top, marrying into royalty and giving the French the Queen they currently enjoyed.

Everyone wanted to see her. Everyone remarked how beautiful she was. How dutiful, pious, religious and she was indeed. No one did more processions that she did, was more observant than she was of Church laws, both of the Old and New faith. Except Margery, but she had gone back to Bavaria with her husband and their two sons.

After their reconciliation Margery had fallen pregnant and gave him one more son, Philip Edward, named after both his grandfathers.

Their daughters, except for Sybille, were left behind in England where they were reared as perfect English Princesses. Most of them had known no other life besides the English Court and were not as brave as their eldest sister and brother to embark on a new adventure.

After they arrived, the greatest news came from Saxony. The Duke of Saxony and his family had died, so had all his kin and the Duke of Cleves having troubles of his own made no bid for the dukedom so in the end it fell to Marcus and so did the position -by election by the other German nobles- of Elector Palatine.

It was not an easy position to be in. And he did not want to oppress his people by openly rebelling against the Empire and Spain as his long relation, Prince William of Orange did. Yet he secretly supported him because Margery counseled him that was the wisest thing to do -in case he won.

He didn't and while they could never prove that Marcus supported him, he was marked by Spain.

Margery fought ardently against taking their sons, supported by her Aunt, the indomitable Bella of England and Mary I of Scotland, she managed to keep her sons free of the Empire and Spain's grasp, and yet there were many things she could not control after Marcus died. Bavaria was after all part of the Holy Roman Empire and there were still many Catholics to appease.

When her son became of age, as was stated in his father's will, he gave some of the territories he'd inherited to his younger brother Philip.

Margery never told them about her deception. Knowing her oldest son and how honorable he was, he would give his claim over to his brother and that would only cause more problems so she chose to keep her silence until her grandson who was made in her image and her father's image, grew up and took his father's titles. Such was the nature of wolves and her eldest son was a wolf by both sides of the blanket and so was her grandson whose mother, her niece Ursula had prepared him for leadership.

* * *

Ned asked his daughter as he lay dying if she was proud of her efforts, if it had all been for something. "It has father, everything we do is for something. You taught me that."

"Aye, I did." Ned said giving his last glance at his favorite daughter as she let go of his hand. It was not her place to be here besides him, that was her mother's and she let her have these last moments with her husband.

Mary gave him a last kiss, his gray beard tickling him. "I will always love you Mary. You are my first, my true soul-mate." He said then gave his last breath and was no more.

"Sleep." Mary whispered, death would take her soon. Without Ned there was no more reason for her to live. She had given everything she had to give to England and her family.

* * *

**We come to an end. Hope everyone enjoyed it. I want to give especial thanks to Mimi and Pebbles for encouraging me to go on, to Couture, Myvalprincess, Narcissa, Dina, Amaranthe Athenais, LadyEleanor, BoleynofAragon, Dude, Courts, and everyone else who reviewed.**


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